Skazka Rytsarya
by FormallyAnimeYaoiFangirl2121
Summary: Ivan is a knight in King Arthur Kirkland's court, Justine Willis is a slave girl purchased by him. In an age where image, nobility, and loyalty are just as important as one's dedication to the king and kingdom, Ivan is torn between his duty to his chivalric code and that of Justine, the slave he shouldn't care for.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Decided to throw something together while I was taking my 5 week summer class. I was reading ahead and found that I actually enjoyed reading about the middle ages, which was new to me! So this is based during that time frame, some things may be historically accurate, others may not be. I trust you will be able to sort out the two. This is my first Hetalia fanfiction, so please keep all the hateful comments and other fuckery to yourself.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, just my OCs.

* * *

1.

Justine would never forget the moment she first saw him, across the small cramped room. A sea of disorderly bodies, disoriented slaves up in the fit because someone of such a high status had suddenly appeared, separated them.

Valiant and strong, he was handsome embodied and the epitome of elegance. As one should be if they were a knight of the king's court.

The tight rope that bound her thin wrists were abruptly pulled, tugging her to her feet and all but dragged her over to where the slave holder and the knight were speaking by the door. She had to blink a few times, the sun burning her eyes.

He stood tall in the opened, shabby doorway. The dim sun shone beautifully on ashen, almost silver tufts of hair. Hard, violet eyes stared at her expectantly. There was an air of confidence about him, and it was nothing shy of intimidating.

Justine had never felt so small, so insignificant.

In that instant, Justine realized almost immediately the difference in their worlds. He was breed for greatness, from a noble family no doubt with wealth and fame to spare. He had the highest education offered in their kingdom, and fought in wars far and wide to protect that kingdom. His ivory skin was clad in fine fabrics, a small broach encrusted with semiprecious gems on his chest for the world to see.

This was the ugly truth that separated their classes, the masses of the people. The wealthy and noble, and the poor.

There Justine stood, heads shorter, in a dirtied dress that had seen better days. Her hair was pinned up as neatly as she could get it, her dark skin carried residue from the earth beneath her bare feet. She looked like she had crawled out of a hole in the ground, and was ashamed to even look the knight in the face.

She didn't deserve such a right.

Her gaze averted his, and she felt herself shrink further under his scrutiny.

"What is your name?" His voice was deep, baritone. It was laced with a rich, heavy accent. He spoke properly, annunciated every word. When she didn't answer him immediately, he asked again, this time with force. "Your name."

"Justine Willis." She answered quietly.

"My lord," The slave owner interjected. He was an older man, with no character or shape. "May I recommend another slave girl? Perhaps one with less… _moxie_?"

Justine shot him a nasty glare.

"Nyet, she will suffice." The knight replied, simply.

"But my lord, this wench has been returned more times than I can count. Not even the abbesses want her!"

The knight spared the older man an uninterested glare, "I take pride in breaking tough spirits. How much?"

Justine felt her heart sink as his violet gaze slid over her, briefly, before meeting the slave owner's quizzical one. She had heard horror stories of some of the dark deeds quite a few of the knights partook in from other slaves, the ones that were lucky enough to get away alive. They spoke of odd gatherings in the dead of night where knights forced them all together and made them have sex while they watched, sometimes the knights forced themselves on them. Others included slaves being used as target practice.

Either way, nothing good ever came from a slave being bought for a knight.

And she suddenly wondered, what did this knight have in store for her?

He paid for her head, and without a word lifted the rope that bounded her hands, and tugged her along.

Some of the knights chose to live a lifestyle of modesty, occupying a small cluster of manors about a few miles walk from the market square. And so they walked, in silence, down a dirt road that, in particular, led to his home.

It was smaller compared to the others neighboring it, but no less elegant. The yard was filled with towering sunflowers, some standing as tall as she did. He unlocked the wooden door and pushed it open, gesturing for Justine to enter first.

When she didn't move, he gave the rope a tug.

"Go."

Justine hung her head, venturing into the knight's home with caution. Sunlight shown through the few windows, illuminating the room and entrance way. His lodgings were simply, a couple of sofas and a large oak table that was centered around a stone fireplace. To her left was a small set of stairs that led to what she assumed was the second floor. To her right was the kitchen.

Once the door shut, Justine jumped slightly and immediately turned to face the towering man. For a moment neither one of them spoke, one simply stared in mild interest while the other tried their damnedest to think of a way out.

"Do not think of running, you will not get far." He said, as if reading her mind. "Because if you try to, you will be punished. It would be in your best interest to abandon such thoughts now."

The knight tugged the rope behind him as he led Justine to the second floor of his home, directing her to the bathroom.

"Undress." He said.

"Excuse me?" Justine managed with a cough.

"I said undress." He said. He busied himself with running warm water to fill the ivory bathtub and gathering soap. "You will bathe before I show you around." The last thing he wanted was her tracking dirt and grime throughout his home.

Justine clutched her tattered dress closer to her body as she stared at him. It was like if she parted with the torn rags it would leave her horribly exposed and that was a level of vulnerability she wasn't willing to accept just yet.

"I will undress once I am _alone._ " She said, firmly.

His amethyst orbs drifted from the defiant look in her face, over her body for a moment, then back to her face.

"Very well." He unbound her wrists, gesturing towards the tub. "I will leave you to clean yourself up. Join me in the sitting area once you are done."

He left, shutting the door behind him. Justine stripped down slowly, emerging into the warm water. She couldn't remember the last time she had a bath. She couldn't remember the last time she washed her hair. Within seconds she was scrubbing every inch of herself in the soap the knight had given her, it wasn't scented but it was soap and she _loved_ it.

Under her nails, arms, breasts, between her legs.

And her scalp, it praised the heavens! She hummed in delight as she scrubbed away layers of dirt.

Justine didn't know how long she had been in the bathroom, but judging by the now cold water it had been some time. She dragged herself to her feet, the dirty water sloshing around her knees, as she stepped out of the tub. She dried herself off, toweled her hair, and dressed. Justine smoothed out the fabric of her dress, staring down at herself.

Her bodice laced up the front, fitted with brass grommets and the full skirt was split down the front to show a modest peek of her muslin underdress. It hung a tad low, leaving her shoulders exposed, but overall, she didn't care. It was the finest article of clothing she has owned since a child, and the fine fabrics clung to her skin nicely.

Dark, thick hair draped over her shoulders as she made her way down the staircase. Most of the walls were bare, save for a few carvings and a crucifix.

Knights had two loyalties, one to their king and kingdom, the other was to their god. Justine scoffed, she supposed if an ' _almighty force'_ had her set for life, she would offer prayer and thanks as well. Sure there were times she prayed, she prayed when she was first sold, and she prayed whenever she was scared, she prayed for some type of hope that would help her along in the shit hole of a life she lived in.

And no one ever answered, nothing ever changed.

Justine found the knight sitting on the larger sofa, a fine gold laced book in his hands. When he noticed her standing at the base of the stairs, he looked up. He eyed her closely, the dress fit her nicely. Though some could say a bit _too_ well, but he didn't mind. She was more appealing to the eye clean.

"Very nice." He closed the book, sitting it down at his side. "Come sit."

Justine did as she was told, taking a spot on the floor beside the fireplace. Slaves were not allowed on the furniture without permission, of course. She looked submissive, there at the large man's feet. Staring up at him with eyes that mimicked the earth.

Fresh earth, ripe and brown.

Earth that wasn't stained with blood.

"This will be your home," The knight began. "So you will treat it as such, respect it. You will make daily trips to the market for ingredients you will need to prepare the meals. You will cook and you will clean. There is a washboard and tub out in the backyard for the laundry, horse feed in the barn. They need to be brushed daily." He paused to make sure she was still listening.

She was.

"There are four bedrooms in this house, one of which is yours. It is the only bedroom down here, south of the kitchen. The three bedrooms upstairs belong to myself and my sisters, Natalya and Katyusha. They are currently not here, and you are not allowed in any of those rooms. You, of course, already know where the bathroom is. Are there any questions?"

"Yes," Said Justine.

"Well?" He urged.

Her gaze lifted to meet his, "What is your name?"

There was a pause before he answered, "Ivan… Ivan Braginski."


	2. Chapter 2

2.

In the days following her rehoming, Justine followed the rules laid out for her with no questions asked. In the morning she rose with the sun, making her daily trip to the market and then returning to handle her housework. She prepared their meals and cleaned. She washed his clothes and hung them out to dry, she tended to the horses. She brought the knight his drink while he went over papers in his study.

His study, a beautiful room with more books than she'd ever seen in her lifetime. Oil paintings hung on the walls of the windowless room, depicting his lord and savior. There was also a bible, ornate, with a cover heavily laid with rubies and emeralds.

Justine wondered what the book entailed, what did it say that was so important an entire kingdom led their lives by its pages? She personally had never read it, never cared for it.

Her first family, the one her mother worked for and the one she had been born into, were devout Christians. They prayed before meals, attended church on Sundays, and fulfilled charitable acts because it was simply the Christian thing to do.

They lived for the lord, yet their home was riddled with sins.

Adultery, jealousy.

It never ceased to amaze Justine, how hypocritical people could be. Picking what they wanted to follow, and what they wanted to ignore.

Ivan wasn't like her previous masters. He demanded respect, therefore he got it. He made it clear from the beginning that if she so much as disobeyed the smallest of orders, she would be reprimanded. And since he was also a knight, Justine (for the first time in her life) didn't fight back.

She merely listened and obeyed.

Ivan was a man of few words, and the ones he spoke were meant to be followed. His heavy feet could be heard throughout the home whenever he walked, his shadow and presence looming whenever he stood near.

Justine didn't dare look him in the eye for too long, afraid the violet swirl would consume her body and soul. And so she hung her head, did what she was told, and stayed out of his way.

It had been particularly cool that day, the sun hid behind the fluff of clouds, the wind carried a sense of calm with it as it shook the trees. She hugged her cloak close as she lugged her basket of goods from the market square, footing it back to Braginski manor. Ivan wanted leek soup that evening, and she needed to get the ingredients for it as well as more spices and alcohol.

The man drank it like water.

Lost among her thoughts, Justine hadn't noticed she was being followed. Not until they forcefully grabbed her. Spilling the contents of her basket onto the dirt road.

"My, aren't you a cute little thing." He was a knight.

"My lord," Justine bowed in respect. Not because she wanted to, but because they could have her hanged if she didn't. She got to her knees in an attempt to retrieve her lost items, when the knight grabbed her chin roughly, hauling her to her feet.

"Manners… don't see that too often in slaves. Especially slave girls of color. What is your name? Who is your master?"

"Justine Willis, my lord, and I belong to Sir Ivan Braginski."

The knight scoffed, "Ivan, eh? What does he have you doing there all day? Cleaning the piss from his pan? Scrubbing boots? Sucking his cock?"

Justine pulled away from him, a deep frown set in place. "With all due respect, my lord, I must be on my way."

"Or what? Ivan will be angry?" He scratched the stubble along his jaw, lips curving into a crooked grin. "Tell you what, you show me what you do for Ivan and I'll help you pick all this up and escort you home."

"And if I refuse?"

"I wasn't asking."

Before Justine could run, the knight had her by the arm, dragging her off the dirt path. The slave kicked and thrashed about, which only encouraged the laughing knight.

"Yes, please! Scream _all_ the air from your lungs! _Who_ do you think will come and save you, hmm? _Who_ will stop a knight from having his way with a worthless slave _whore_?"

"I am no whore!" She snapped, sinking her teeth into the exposed flesh of his forearm.

The knight howled, releasing her. "You bitch!" He shouted.

He lunged forward, knocking Justine into a nearby tree. Had all the air not had been knocked from her lungs, she would have screamed from the pain that now ran like liquid fire through her shoulder.

"Let go of me!" She weakly struggled.

The knight chuckled, pulling her body to his by her leg. He settled between her legs, pulling her dress up to her waist.

"I'll let you go once I've fucked you a good few times," He laughed like a mad man. "But once I'm done, you might want to stay with me." He winked.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she continued to struggle, pounding on the knight's chest with her good hand.

"Please don't," Came her choked sob.

"I love when my bitches beg, gets my dick hard quicker." He grabbed her face, "You bite me again and I'll knock all your damn teeth out."

"Eat shit."

The sound of a harsh slap filled the air as his hand connected with her right cheek. Too stunned, she stared up at him, mouth agape.

"Theodore!"

The knight stilled suddenly, hazel eyes lazily lifting to see Ivan rushing towards them at full speed.

"Well, well." Theodore greeted, coolly.

Ivan grabbed the other knight by the arm, hauling him to his feet with ease, and tossed him back. Theodore stumbled to a stop, chuckling as he pushed blonde hair from his brow.

"Are you upset, brother?" He asked. "She is just a slave, and you know what they say: 'slave pussy is good pussy.'"

"She is not _yours_ to claim, nor is she yours to fuck." Ivan stated, as calmly as he could muster. He was never a fan of people touching his things. "You touch her again and I will cut you down where you stand, now piss off."

Theodore regarded the older man before scuffing his boots in the dirt, walking off. "You are getting soft, old man!" He called over his shoulder.

Ivan brushed him off, turning to face Justine who still lied in the grass. She hadn't moved since he had shown up.

"Are you alright?" He asked, offering her a hand.

"Yes, my lord. I am fine… thank you." Justine said quietly, taking the hand offered to her with her good side.

But Ivan saw through the ruse, touching her injured shoulder. Justine hissed, shying away from him.

"He hurt you."

"I said I am fine, my lord."

"I will look at it once we return to the manor." He didn't leave room for a debate.

"Yes… my lord…" Justine hung her head.

Ivan gathered the ingredients that had fallen onto the road, carrying them the rest of the way home while Justine followed quietly behind. Once they arrived, Ivan dropped the food off in the kitchen, and then grabbed a pot and filling it with water to boil.

"Come here." He said, beckoning Justine over to him. He stood in front of the small kitchen window where the lighting was the best.

Justine obeyed silently, her eyes cast downward as she stood before the man. Large hands made quick work of the laces that tied her bodice shut, maneuvering her injured arm out as best he could.

"It is not broken," Ivan said as he examined it closely. "But it is dislocated and already bruisinhg. I will have to pop it back into place, follow me."

Ivan led her from the kitchen, a pot of heated water and a cloth in his hands. He gestured for her to open her room door, and once Justine did he entered and sat his materials down on the floor at her bedside.

"Come lie down." He instructed.

Justine hesitated, but eventually complied. If he could make the intense pain go away, well then why the hell now, she figured. She laid on her back, her injured arm away from her body at an angel. Ivan firmly grabbed her wrist and slowly, yet firmly, pulled on her arm to create traction. Justine gave a hollow scream as she all but felt her humerus head slide under the bone of her shoulder blade and back into its socket.

Her lithe arm was small in his large hands, then again everything about her compared to him was small. Ivan was built like a bear, barrel chested, broad shouldered, strong legs. He had the perfect attributes for being a great warrior, yet his large calloused hands were gentle not to cause her more harm.

Justine whimpered, head lulling on the pillow, as the pain immediately subsided.

"You should feel better soon," Ivan said as he laid the warm cloth against her skin. "Rest until then."

"Thank you, my lord." She murmured, watching him.

"Pozhaluysta."

…..

Justine woke sometime later, the smell of food being cooked heavy on the air. She drew herself up into the sitting position, staring briefly at nothing before swinging her legs off the edge of the bed and standing. Her shoulder was still sore, but it was considerably better thanks to Ivan.

"Sir Ivan?" She called, leaving her room.

"Kitchen."

Justine cradled her arm as she approached the kitchen, finding the large knight mixing something in a bowl.

"I take it you are rested," He said, busy with the task at hand.

"I am, thank you." Said Justine.

"That is good to hear."  
"I can take it from here, my lord." She offered.

"Nyet," Said Ivan. "I will handle dinner tonight, you just worry about your shoulder. Theodore has always been a brute, but he seems to get worse the older he gets." Fine lines formed themselves in the man's face.

Justine could tell he was annoyed and agitated, so she decided not to push the subject, instead asking, "What are you making?"

"Pelmeni," Said Ivan.

"That sounds… interesting." Said Justine. Her nose scrunched up at the way the word rolled off his tongue, foreign to her. "It smells good."

"Spasibo."

' _Such an odd language,'_ Justine thought as they fell into silence once again. The knight busying himself with making dinner and his slave watched intently. He had his sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and she could see fine green and blue veins bulging as he vigorously mixed the contents of the bowl. The pale yellow scarf he wore was tucked away nicely, neatly out of the way. In awkward patches were small yet defined scars, some larger than the others he bore, none of them no bigger than a knife's blade.

Justine wondered what it was like being a knight. Was it all the stories she heard told it to be? Did they kill ruthlessly in foreign lands or was there some compassion? Was it all for the sake of the king and kingdom, protecting the people, or for personal gain? Was King Arthur nice? Were all knights like Sir Theodore?

Well, that certainly couldn't be true.

Ivan was nothing like Theodore, he wasn't some gruff, senseless brute.

But then again the man barely said much of anything. She knew nothing about him.

He barely did anything either.

No, Justine took that back.

Ivan left the manor on quite a few occasions, to visit town, to go to church, occasionally he kept company with a few other knights, Francis Bonnefoy and Ludwig Beilschmidt. He had somewhat of a social life, but not by much.

The man was mostly a loner, a high ranking knight that preferred the good company of a book verses that of a living, breathing person. He was an odd one indeed, but Justine supposed she preferred things that way.

Dinner was ready not too long after, and the pair ate quietly at the table. Whatever it was Ivan made, it was delicious.

"Can you read?" Ivan asked, making small talk. When the girl nodded, he asked, "Do you enjoy reading?"

Justine glanced up for a moment, staring at the man's blank face.

"I do, my lord. Though books are hard to come across when you have no means of buying them."

"Then you are welcomed to read in my study," He said.

"I… um… th-thank you, my lord." She found herself smiling softly.

"What else can you do?"

"Erm… well… I can sew, and bake…"

Ivan hummed appreciatively.

"What made you become a knight, my lord?"

For the first time since they sat down for dinner, Ivan looked up at her. Ashen brows furrowed as his face sat into a deep frown.

"Forgive me, I have overstepped my bounds." Justine murmured, averting her gaze.

"Nyet… I…" He paused. "It was a family tradition, I suppose. My father was a knight, my grandfather, his father and so on."

"Where is your family now?"

"My sisters are studying in Paris, and my mother is still alive and well, living in the country side back in my home country. My father died in a war years ago."

"I… apologize, my lord." Justine said.

"Do not be, it was long before your time."

"It does not matter how long ago it was, the loss of a parent never truly heals. The loss of anyone you hold dear goes with you the rest of your life. You always carry that pain, it just becomes easier to deal with over time."

The kitchen fell back into silence.


	3. Chapter 3

3.

Justine woke the following morning with a stack of velvet fabric at the foot of her bed. Never had she seen anything so beautiful, the color a deep burgundy, and soft to the touch. Scooping the fabric up, she darted from her room, finding Ivan sitting at the table with a letter in his hands.

"Good morning, my lord." She greeted, hastily. "What is this?"

"Good morning," Said Ivan. "It is velvet."

"Yes, I know, but what is it _for_?"

"You said you sew, da? Then I expect you to use that fabric wisely and create something decent from it."

"Create something…? My lord, fabric such as this is far too-"

"My household has been invited to a banquet from the king. Surely you cannot show up dressed like you are?"

"But my lord… I am a slave, I am not worthy to be in the king's presence… and this, I have done nothing to deserve such kindness."

Justine palmed the fabric gently. She just couldn't fathom such an act of kindness.

Ivan eyed her closely before sighing, sitting the letter on the table. "I appreciate what you do around the home. Therefore, accept my gift and join me."

Justine bowed her head, "As you wish, my lord." She offered him a thankful smile, holding the fabric close.

She had no idea what to do with it, though she didn't dare say it out loud.

Ivan gestured for her to have a seat at the table as he made her a plate of simple eggs and ham. The slave girl thanked him kindly before eating quietly, watching the man across the table intently.

"My lord, are knights always invited to the castle?" She asked.

"Not as often as you would think," Ivan replied calmly. "If we are, it is for events such as this, or the king needs to speak with us directly. Otherwise we do our work in the guilds and at the cathedral, and help maintain civic order."

"What is the castle like?"

Ivan spared her a glance, "You will see soon enough." He said. "I have some business to attend to today, so you will be here alone. Do you think you can handle that with a sore shoulder?"

"Of course, my lord."

"Very well, I will see you this evening."

Ivan got to his feet, bidding her a farewell before taking his leave. The silence that followed seemed to stretch for hours even though the large man had just left. Justine would have to find something to do, and quick, or she feared she would lose what little sanity she has left. She finished her breakfast and set about cleaning the house. Ivan kept the manor clean and orderly, so there wasn't much to do save for dust in some spots. Once she was done, Justine brushed the horses' manes. She was sure they were tired of seeing her and listening to her timeless rambles. The horses were great listeners, and never judged her.

Eventually Justine found herself in the knight's study, gazing at the many books that lined the wooden walls. There were a few portraits on the walls opposite the book shelves, a couple depicting Jesus and his disciples, the others seemed to be his family. Next to Jesus was a painting of two young women, both with ashen hair like Ivan's. They seemed happy, delicate. Their dressed were adorned in intricate embroidery, their necks dawning fine jewelry. They appeared to be sitting on a fancy satin chase, in a room where the walls were heavily painted in shades of deep greens and gold. The last painting was distinguishingly Ivan, clad in his silver armor atop a horse's back. The king's crest was on his shield, he had a sword at his waist in its hilt. The painted sun seemed to reflect off the silver of his armor and hair, making him appear otherworldly.

Justine, cheeks now burning, turned, and motioned back over to the bookcases.

…..

"Oh, Ivan! Bonjour, mon amie!" Francis sashayed over to the older man with Theodore in tow, the younger all too smug for Ivan's liking.

Ivan had been hoping for the day to go smoothly, but in all honesty he should have been used to the lord testing him and his patience by now.

"Pochemu privet Francis, Theodore." He greeted as kindly as he could.

If there was one thing he didn't want, it was an hours long conversation with Francis. The Frenchman could talk the wars off of a dead man. The goal was to keep the conversation short, end it quickly and go on about his duties for the day.

Ivan was in charge for making sure the builders guild got the permits they needed for the construction they would be doing on the cathedral and courthouse, he would also be overseeing the hiring process of said help.

Needless to say, he didn't have time to waste.

"Buying pearls, are we? Are they for the slave girl?" Theodore nosed about, watching the transaction before him with great interest.

Since Ivan was in town today, he figured he would get Justine something else, a little umph for whatever it was she would be creating out of the fabric he got her.

" _Slave girl_? Honhonhonhonhon!" Francis dropped an arm around Ivan's shoulders. "Mon amie! I had no idea you purchased a _slave_ while I was away!" Francis made trips back home to France ever so often to visit his family that still lived there. "What is she like?"

"I'll tell ya!" Theodore chimed in, all too happily, as he got closer than he needed to be to whisper. "She is _colored_ , with breasts you could lay your head on, and lips you could only _imagine_ around your dick."

Francis whistled, Theodore nodded to agree.

Ivan rolled his eyes. If he rolled them any harder, chances were they would get stuck there.

"I have to see this exotic beauty!" Francis swooned. "Have you slept with her yet? Made beautiful amour?"

"Course he hasn't," Theodore scoffed. "He's got his cock in a knot, and because he doesn't want to fuck her it seems the rest of us can't either."

"Quelle? You _tried_ , Theo?"

"You bet I did. And this bloody ass stopped me, but it wasn't before that bitch put up one hell of a fight."

"Now Theo, you know how Ivan can be when it comes to his things. Maybe if you had asked nicely-"

"Piss off Francis."

"Anyways, who are the pearls for? The slave girl or the lady?"

"Yeah, isn't Lillian supposed to be coming in soon? Pretty sure she won't take too kindly to you buying a female slave to keep _her_ manor tidy while she's away."

"It is none of your concern who I buy things for." Ivan said, eventually. He shrugged out of their awkward embrace and stared at them coldly. "Now if you will excuse me, I actually have work to do."

….

Ivan returned home later than he expected to, due to unforeseen circumstances (and by that he meant Francis ate up much of his valuable and limited time). Upon entering, the downstairs area was dark with the exception of the dim fire barely hanging on in the fireplace. He shut the door quietly behind him, removing his heavy boots before making his way over to where Justine was. He found the slave girl asleep on the sofa, needle, thread, and fabric still clutched in her hands.

He sighed, stepping quietly over to her. Ivan removed the items from her hands, sitting them aside, careful enough to not mess up any work she might have done.

Her hands were so small, and delicate. Despite being a slave, her hands were smooth in his calloused one. They didn't hint at any hard, manual labor. No visible scars. Just perfect skin. His eyes traveled up the length of her exposed arm, up to where her neck bent to lay on the sofa arm. Her deep earthen hair fell out of her face, framing her head in a messy halo. Violet orbs roamed over the features of her face, thin brows, the slight curve of her round cheeks, the arch of her nose, down to full, well rounded lips.

He wouldn't deny her beauty, for she was. Like a rare flower, budding for its first spring.

Justine suddenly stirred, giving his hand a squeeze. Her eyes cracked open slowly, remaining half lidded as she stared at him.

"Sir Ivan?" She yawned.

"Da, it is me." Ivan said, voice low. "I have returned."

"Oh good… I made dinner… though it might be cold…"

"Thank you."

"You are welcome, 'y lord."

"I have something for you."

Ivan released her hand to remove the small pouch of pearls from his side. He placed the bag in her palm, watching as her sleep ridden face contorted in confusion.

"Sir Ivan," She yawned again. "You did not need to do this."

"Open," He said disregarding her modesty.

Justine pulled the string that tied the bag shut, staring down in disbelief at hundreds of tiny, ivory pearls.

"I figured you could use them for your dress."

"Thank you very much, 'y lord." She gave him a small yet defined smile.

She had dimples in her cheeks.

"You are welcome," Ivan said as he stood to his feet. "Come." He scooped the small girl into his arms, carrying her to her room.

Justine was sound asleep again before they arrived to her shabby little closet, the bag of pearls clutched tightly in her hands. Ivan laid her down, careful of her healing shoulder, and pulled the blanket over her. He spared her one last glance before leaving.


	4. Chapter 4

4.

Justine smiled, _truly_ smiled, those days. The weather was cooling into the fall and winter months, hence her picking up some wool to stitch into her cloak later while visiting the market. Ivan finally granted her permission to leave the house, deeming her well enough to resume her duties around the manor. He also gifted her with a small crest, his family's crest, so that no one (mainly the knights) would mess with her from here on out. True enough, for the first time in her life, she felt like she actually belonged somewhere.

Like she finally had a home.

A real home.

It didn't matter that she was a slave and that Ivan hadn't released her, so long as she could stay with him she would be fine.

As long as she could keep eating breakfast and dinner with him, as long as she could read in his study while he worked, as long as she could keep listening to how his day went or the odd tales from his youth (from his childhood in Russia to his early days in the Knighthood), Justine would be just fine.

She would be _happy._

But the world was such a cruel place, and the heavens got their laughs from the misfortunes of the humans below.

Justine, as she drew closer to the manor, recognized a noble's carriage parked outside of Braginski manor. The stage coach was too busy unloading trunks bound with leather to notice her slipping by, not that he would anyway.

She easily got passed the man and into the front door, "Sir Ivan?" She called.

Justine stopped when she heard the light laughter of a woman, and her blood all but turned to ice when she saw the person it belonged to.

Justine, for as long as she lived, would never forget that head of red. Freckles sprawled across the brim of her thin nose against pasty skin. Her piercing emerald eyes found her almost immediately.

"Well," She purred, her eyes narrowed as her smile grew increasingly wide. "If it is not little Justine, though you are not so little anymore."

"Miss Lillian." Justine's mouth was dry.

Not that she was thirsty. That woman had the ability to suck the life out of a room or a person with just her presence alone; she was dangerous.

"My, you have grown." Lillian continued, sizing the slave girl up. She deemed herself better, naturally. "When Ivan said he bought a slave, you were the _last_ one to come to mind. Such a small world we live in. It will be just like old times, no? Only more _order._ " She eyed Justine pointedly on the last note.

"Excuse me.." Justine quickly dismissed herself, making her way to the kitchen. She dropped off the food she had purchased for that day, barely catching Ivan's concerned stare, before hastily going to her room and shutting herself in.

Unable to sit still, Justine paced the wooden floor, body trembling. Not out of anger, but fear. Lillian ruined lives, she destroyed families. She was no force to be taken likely, and now she was under her master's roof. It made Justine's skin crawl, made her gut ache.

This was the way of god.

A sick joke?

A means of punishment, perhaps?

Maybe for something she didn't know she had done?

Maybe she should have slept with those knights?

They were, after all, close to the king, who was close to god. Maybe she disrespected him somehow?

Justine just didn't know, but whatever it was it had to have struck a nerve because the deity was pissed at her and her existence.

Justine wasn't aware of how much time had passed, and it wasn't until there was a gentle knock that startled her in the middle of sewing, that she gave a barely audible, "Come in."

The door opened, and Ivan greeted her with a smoldering bowl of soup and a piece of bread.

"You missed dinner." He said, staring down at her as she worked on the floor.

"I was not hungry." Justine grumbled, blowing a tuft of hair from her face.

"Oh? I bet you are hungry now, da?"

Justine ignored the fitful growl her belly gave, Ivan chuckled softly.

"If you are to keep growing, you will need to eat."

' _Was that supposed to be a joke?'_ Justine stared up at him in distaste, brows knitted.

"Prosti, did I offend you?" Ivan asked, a single brow raised.

"Of course not, my lord." Justine huffed.

"Good," He said. "Answer something, will you?"

"Of course."

"Just how do you know Lillian?"

The needle she had been holding fell from her fingers. "Pardon?"

" _How_ do you and Lillian know each other?"

"My lord, I am sure if you asked Lady Lillian she would be glad to tell you." Justine couldn't hide the obvious ice in her tone.

It was so evident it made the entire room cold.

"I am not asking her, I am asking _you_. Now tell me."

"… the Wilsons made their fortunes off the backs of slaves, this is nothing new. Their family was riddled with lies, and they did whatever they needed to do to make them disappear. It is said that Jonathan Wilson had an affair with a slave woman, one that worked for the family, and bore him illegitimate children… I am one of those bastard children, the others are my two sisters, Ophelia and Jahora. For years they had an affair, and when Lady Lillian's mother found out, she lost her mind. Never had there been such a scandal. Her sanity left her and she took her own life. Lillian was furious and hurt, and she hated us all. Jonathan continued to live his life, now openly with my mother. But once he died, Lillian got control over the estate, and with that our lives. Jonathan died before he could grant my mother, my sisters, and I our freedom." Her bottom lip quivered as she continued. "Lillian… had my mother hanged, and then she sold my sisters and I separately. Jahora was sent to Paris, and the last I heard from her she was studying under Hildegard Bingen in Germany, and Ophelia stayed back in Normandy. She was sold to a fellow named Matthew Williams, who freed and then married her. And I… I am here…"

Ivan sat her dinner down on the bedside table, kneeling down on one knee to look her directly in the face.

"You are with me now, and I give you my word, nothing will happen to you. No harm will come your way." He placed a gentle pat to the top of her head.

"Thank you…" She whispered.

…

Justine woke the following day determined to have a good day. Seriously, she needed it. She got up, dressed for the day, and left her room in search of her cloak. The quicker she left the manor, the less time she would have to spend under the same roof as Lillian.

But of course, reality reared its ugly head.

"Why good morning, Justine." Lillian chimed as she entered the kitchen. Her piercing eyes shone brightly than the sun. "Are you off to the market?"

"I am." Justine answered, shortly.

"Oh good, would you be a dear and get a few things for me?"

"Sure."

"Oh, and _smile_. That frown is not a good look on you."

Justine held her tongue as the older woman smiled, handing her a few extra gold coins and a list written on scented paper.

"Hurry now, alright? I would like to get this to Ivan before he leaves for the day." Lillian dismissed her with a wave of her dainty hand.

Justine stomped down the dirt road, grumbling as she crumbled the paper in her hands.

' _The nerve of that bitch!'_

Justine couldn't stand the red headed woman before, but now she _really_ couldn't! She would rather have her teeth pulled out one by one than talk to Lillian, and the latter seemed to be none the wiser! Either that or she simply didn't care. Like she was living in some delusional world she created when none of the events of their checkered past happened.

Like she and Justine weren't related in some odd, disgusting way.

Justine had a noble's blood coursing through her veins alongside her slave mother's, and Lillian made it her mission to remind her that she was born a slave and would die one as well.

"Good morning, Justine." The butcher smiled as she approached his stand.

"Morning, Mr. Smith. How are you this fine day?"

The older man smiled, "Well now that I have seen your lovely face!" He complimented.

"You are too kind, Mr. Smith. Thank you." She smiled. Justine was sued to the man's flattery, but he meant well and was sweeter than candy.

"How is 'ol Ivan treating you? Good I hope."

"Sir Ivan is very pleasant," Said Justine honestly. "It is the _woman_ he keeps company with that grinds my bones."

Mr. Smith chuckled, "Is that _jealousy,_ child?"

Justine blushed, "Oh heavens no!" She said. "She is just _that_ horrible of a person."

Mr. Smith hummed in thought, clearing his throat before changing the subject. "So, what will it be?"

"Pork and beef, please."

"Very well, will that be all?"

"Yes, thank you so much as always. And take care of yourself now, you hear? It will be cold soon." Justine said, leaving with a wave.

Next, she stopped by the fruit stand, and then she picked up some more vegetables. She saved Lillian's list for last, acquiring the woman's perfume, a corset, and a bottle of lubricant before making her way back to the manor.

Justine didn't bother to announce her return, Ivan could sense it and Lillian just didn't care. She went about busying herself as she made breakfast, paying their conversation no mind.

At least until she heard her name.

"She will be attending church with us on Sundays."

Justine couldn't hear what Ivan said in response.

"Because I want to make sure she is cleansed before I accept her as a slave in our home. I need to be certain the whorish taint her mother marked her with is removed by the lord's grace and mercy."

Ivan said something.

"You are too _kind_ , Ivan. That very _weakness_ costed my father his family and my mother her life. You cannot be too safe around slaves, _especially_ this one. She is the child of a _whore,_ apples do not fall from the tree."

Justine could all but slit that slut's throat, the nerve of her! Forcing her to go to church was one thing, but to speak ill of her mother? Those were fighting words.

Lillian was going to ruin Justine in every way she could.

"Breakfast is ready." Justine dryly announced, drying her hands on her apron.

There was a brief moment before the pair joined her in the kitchen, taking their respective seats at the table.

"Thank you," Said Ivan. "Will you be joining us or skipping another meal?" There was a hint of amusement in his voice.

Before Justine could reply, Lillian spoke up for her. " _Please_ , dear. It is _rude_ to have slaves eat at the table. She can eat her meal somewhere else." She gave Justine a look that warned her to keep her peace and obey.

Justine gave a curt bow of her head, took her plate of prepared food, and left.

"You are to be _nice_ , Lillian." Ivan said smoothly as he sipped at his coffee. "Remember that _I know_ you, and I know when you are going out of your way to make someone else miserable. This is still _my_ home and you will respect it _and_ her."

Lillian arched a fine red brow, "Do not tell me you have developed a soft spot while I was away?" She challenged. "I know what knights _do_ with their slaves, and I will tell you this… you bed her and I will have you castrated and shunned, and I will have her beheaded. How is that for being _nice_ , hmm?"


	5. Chapter 5

5.

The days following Lillian's arrival were pure hell. Justine made her daily trips to the market, prepared the meals, and spent the rest of the day holed up in her cramped room working on her dress for the king's banquet. It was coming along nicely, and she was proud of its progress. Ivan would, of course ask to see her work, but she would deny him and shoo him away while she finished the seemingly endless task at hand. But Ivan wasn't around often those days, with running the guild and supervising the men, so mostly it was just her and Lillian. The red headed woman was all over him and constantly around.

Her presence was suffocating.

Church was no better.

Lillian had bought Justine a dress for the occasion, an action that would forever hand over the slave girl's head and put her in debt to the woman. It also didn't help that the dress looked wonderful on her, molding to her body nicely. It was an emerald, slender dress with long sleeves that ended with wide trims and a hem and neckline of twisted gold and green piping, made with a lightweight fabric that flowed whenever she moved.

Justine paid more attention to the light shining through the stained-glass windows than to what was actually being said, wedged between Lillian and one of the Thomas' boys, this one had to be no older than ten. Ivan sat next to just Lillian.

Though Justine did find herself wondering if god could see her right then, through the eyes of the Virgin painted in the glass. Was he pleased that someone was forcing her to make an effort? Or was he still not listening because she hadn't come to him willingly?

Most likely the latter, apparently the big guy was bog on willingness and opportunity.

' _God, if you can hear me… please help me.'_

She wondered if the prayers of slaves even mattered. The way they preached it, if one didn't have something to offer, heaven wasn't the place for them. But she lived her life as decently as she could, so maybe there was a loophole?

Justine would just have to wait and see.

"Dame Lillian?"

They stopped as a knight approached them, just as they made it to the last steps of the church. It was a knight Justine had never seen before, a Frenchman, with long brunette hair pulled away from his face in a ponytail.

"Blessed be, Francis. Still as handsome as ever." Lillian smiled as she allowed him to kiss her hand.

"Oui, mademoiselle." Said Francis. "The king keeps us busy, and Ivan is no better."

Ivan grunted in response.

Francis turned his attention to Justine, who just stared back blankly.

' _Who the hell is this guy?'_ Justine didn't know what to think of him just yet, other than he was increasingly friendly and lacked boundaries.

"And you, mon cher, what would your name be?"

"Justine," She bowed.

"What a pleasure to finally meet you!" Francis placed a chaste kiss to her hand, and Ivan cleared his throat once he deemed the contact too long. "I have heard so much about you."

"Oh?" Justine arched a brow.

"From peu (little) Theodore, of course. He spoke highly of your beauty, but his words do you no justice!"

"Th-thank you," The girl blushed.

"Oh! You color like a rose, mon cher. How cute you are." Francis cupped her chin, lifting her face. He examined her closely.

Justine's gaze slid over to Ivan, who looked about ready to snap the man's wrist.

"If Ivan is ever mean to you, I will be here for you. Just give my name a call, and I will come for you." He said, running his thumb over her lower lip.

"That is enough, Francis." Ivan snapped.

"Fine, fine." He held up his hands in defeat. "We will see each other again, oui?"

"You will be seeing us at the king's banquet," Lillian said with a smile. "I am eager to see everyone, I have missed you all so."

"And you, peu Justine?"

"I will be there." She answered.

Lillian almost had a stroke.

"Oh? Says _who_?"

"Sir Ivan." Justine said, lips curving into a self-satisfied smirk. "He even bought the materials for me to make my dress.

Lillian's smile only faltered a bit before she turned her attention back to Francis. "We will be seeing you then, good day."

The ride back to the manor in the carriage was silent. Justine watching the passing scenery, Lillian sat fuming, and Ivan was uninterested in it all. Once they arrived, Lillian was the first one out, not bothering to wait for the coach.

"Justine." She turned to face them.

The slave girl was half out of the carriage as her name was called, she looked up at the glaring woman. "Yes, Lady Lillian?" Justine tried her hardest not to smirk at the annoyed twitch the woman's lips gave at the sound of her own name slipping past Justine's lips, sickeningly sweet.

"Go to your room and stay there until I tell you otherwise, understood?"

"Of course, my lady." Justine said, coolly, walking passed her.

Ivan watched Justine go before turning to Lillian, who stared back at him equally.

"Are you going to defend her now? Again?" Lillian snapped, arms folding.

Ivan said nothing, just simply watching the woman. Lillian was younger than him by a few years, though they were both older than Justine considerably. Lillian was once a charming woman, who smiled more than frowned, and who spoke more than yelled. Now she was a completely different person, especially now that Justine was under the same roof. Lillian seemed more devious, more conniving.

The woman had a mean streak miles wide.

Ivan wondered what happened to the woman who loved to walk the forest and sketch the different things she saw? What happened to the woman who loved to ride horses with him, who loved working in the garden with him? What happened to the woman who asked to make love with him, instead of demanding a good fucking? What happened to the woman that used to blush every time he looked at her? Now she just scowled and complained.

Ivan sighed, "I will be in my study." He announced.

Marriages were business arrangements, a 'who can I get the most from' transaction. Sure, he had status, a title and a name for himself, and a decent amount of wealth to live the rest of his life off of. But marrying Lillian meant _more_ , and more was _always_ better.

Not in a greedy sense, _never_ greedy.

But in a means of taking care of his _own_ family. Sending more money to his mother back in Russia, to help her live out the rest of her days comfortably. For his sisters (even though they hated taking money from him), so they could continue their education.

It wasn't about _him_ , it was _never_ about him, but always for the sake of _others._

But now… could he do it?

Could Ivan follow out with it all?

Ivan would need more than a warm body he could bury his cock into and sleep next to at night, and right now the knight found himself all kinds of conflicted. He didn't like the Lillian he had now.

…..

The night of the king's banquet had the town in a bustle. People of all shapes and sizes flocked to the castle, dressed in their finest. King Arthur Kirkland was a king of the people. His language could be a bit vulgar at times, and his cooking was something to be feared, but he cared greatly for his townspeople, for his knights and his royal guard.

"A job is a job, no matter how big or small. And every job is important." He would say.

And the people adored him, prayed for him and his health and well being. Every month or so Arthur would have a banquet, opening up his home to this people as a way of saying thank you. There was always food, drink, and women in abundance, and everyone enjoyed themselves well into the night.

Even though there were quite a few who couldn't hold their booze and caused a scene, it would do little to ruin the evening and time for everyone.

Ivan stood outside the manor by the carriage, mindlessly tapping the side as he waited for the women to finish doing whatever it was they were doing. He gave another sigh, head tilting to the darkening sky.

"Sorry, dear." Lillian breathed as she appeared in the doorway. "I am ready." She wore a deep blue dress with silver etchings along the hems, it hung off of her creamy shoulders.

"And Justine?"

Lillian shrugged, climbing into the carriage unassisted. Ivan could tell the woman was still in a sour mood, it was obvious she wanted Justine nowhere near them that evening. If Lillian could lock the slave away for good she would.

Justine appeared suddenly, shying into his view.

"I… am ready." She said. The dress she made was exquisite. The burgundy velvet had over 150 pearls embroidered onto it, with a rich trim that criss crossed along its sleeves and down the front of the gown. All her dark hair had been pinned away from her face, save for a few stray strands that hung at her nape, in a neat bun.

Ivan couldn't help but stare, she looked divine.

"How does it look?" Asked Justine, seeking her master's approval. The last thing she wanted was to disappoint him among his fellow knights and of course in front of the king. She wasn't a professional seamstress, and the little she did know she learned from her mother and sisters.

"It looks perfect," Said Ivan.

Justine beamed, a light blush in her colored cheeks. "Thank you, Sir Ivan." She said.

Ivan helped her into the carriage, and Justine had to stifle her smirk as Lillian saw the dress she wore. The woman all but split her sides as she glared at Justine, in obvious distaste. Justine sat opposite of Lillian and Ivan, both she and her master sat beside the window. Ivan observed as her dark eyes grew in wonder as she looked out the window, watching as the townspeople flocked to the king's castle. Women in dresses, men in their finest linen pants and tunics, children clinging to their mothers hips or running around their parents legs as they played.

The air was filled with a joyous calm and lively chatter, and it increased tenfold inside the king's grand hall. The high walls held tapestries that told stories of his reign, his accomplishments, and of his family. Flags with his family and the kingdoms crest and colors hung from the ceiling. Justine gaped in awe as she took in her surroundings, a wide smile sated on her lips.

"This is amazing!" Justine said, eyes roaming. "There are so many people!" She waved as some familiar faces spotted her.

Ivan chuckled at her innocent wonder. "Da."

"Justine? Justine Willis?"

A boy with a head of honey blonde hair and unmistakable blue eyes called for her from across the hall. His sun kissed skin, his wide friendly smile, a noticeable cowlick that defied gravity and refused to stay in place.

Justine _knew_ him.

"Alfred?" She asked, unsure.

"My god, it is you!"

The tall blonde ran to her, scooping her up into his arms with ease, and gave her a twirl before placing her back on her feet.

"Alfred? What in god's name are you doing here? I thought you had work in Ireland!" She hadn't seen him in years. The last time they saw each other, Alfred was the same height as Justine and was missing a few teeth. Now he stood a good two heads taller, and was the perfect image of a young man in his primal youth.

"I did, but I enlisted as a knight and earned a rank." He smiled proudly.

Justine clapped, praising him. "My word! I am so very proud!" She said. "How are Matthew and Ophelia?"

"They are well, expecting their first child soon."

"What?" She coughed.

"Yes!" Nodded Alfred. "Matthew feels it will be a son, but my gut tells me it will be a daughter. You know how soft Mattie is, I would kill over right here if the babe was a son."

"This is wonderful news!" She gushed, eyes gleaming. "Oh please send them my regards, will you? Let them know where I am so they can write and visit, I am sure Sir Ivan would not mind."

"Ivan? Ivan Braginski?"

"Yes?"

"He bought you?" Alfred seemed skeptical.

"He did…?"

Alfred shook his head, "I am so sorry, Justine." He said. "Once I became a knight and gained status, I looked for you all over Normandy. But when I found your sisters, they told me that you were most likely sent here."

Justine sighed, "As you see, Lillian split us up after mother and Jonathan…passed."

"That wench," Alfred tsked.

"You watch your tongue," Justine chuckled playfully. "That wench is here right now and you know she hears all."

"What? Why?"

"She is Sir Ivan's betrothal." Justine sighed. "This has to be god punishing me for my parents' sins, for I hope to never see her face again."

"Well maybe after they wed, Ivan will release you."

"Or they will keep me and that she-witch will work me to an early death."

"I will not allow that!"

"My hero," She grinned.

"Come, dance with me like old times." Alfred smiled brightly, blue eyes shining, as he took her hands.

Ivan watched as the young knight, Alfred F. Jones he believed is what the boy boasted all the time, pulled Justine by her hands to where others were dancing. He couldn't hear what they were talking about, but the pair seemed to know each other. Most likely from her childhood, he reasoned. They appeared friendly, which Ivan didn't mind. Even if he himself wasn't too social, he wouldn't deny Justine the company of others in the guise of friendship.

 _Just_ friends.

Alfred had a familiar glint in those ocean colored eyes of his, and it was a glint Ivan knew all too well. He'd seen knights give those looks before, even himself at some point during his youth. The look of want and desire.

The look of _affection_.

And though Justine seemed oblivious to this, Alfred himself didn't seem to mind at all.

Ivan found himself grinding his teeth in annoyance as he watched the younger male pull her closer, his connecting, as he rested a hand at the small of her back. Alfred appeared to be chatting away as usual, his smile never breaking, teeth shining, and Justine simply giggled.

There was just _something_ about Justine that got under Ivan's skin in the oddest of ways. He wanted to protect her like a child, teach her like a subordinate, talk with her like a friend, and love her like-

The old Russian tensed, the mug he had been holding almost fell from the sudden tremble in his hand.

Love her like… _what?_

A sister?

Heavens no. The two he had were quite enough.

A friend?

Ivan had a couple, he didn't need anymore. He could barely tolerate the ones he had.

So what then?

"Excuse me.." Ivan grumbled. He left Lillian in the company of Francis, Ludwig, and Gilbert (which granted wasn't the wisest idea, but he currently didn't give a damn), and stepped outside.

There he could finally breathe and collect his thoughts. Tilting his head back, Ivan stared up at the sky. Tonight it was empty, bleak. A sea of endless darkness spotted with a few clouds and nothing else.

How _did_ he feel?

Ivan pondered.

He supposed he would always have a special place in his heart for Lillian. She had been there when he needed someone most, seen his darkest days and helped him along without a single judgmental thought. She helped stitch him together after returning home from wars with wounds that should have very well killed him.

' _So why?'_

Why didn't Ivan feel like he used to? Like a love-sick lad whenever he saw her, heart running wild? Whenever they touched or made love?

No, it wasn't making love anymore. Now it was just a senseless, emotionless fuck those days.

At least it was for him.

His thoughts drifted back to Justine.

Ivan could recall the day he had first seen her, sitting off in a corner in the overly crowded room. The conditions slaves were kept in were inhumane, and the stench of bodily waste, sweat, and death lingered heavily in the air. Like a thick blanket one couldn't get from under. While others looked beaten down and defeated, there she was with a fire still burning in her eyes.

He supposed that's why he bought her, a kindred spirit.

Ivan was prepared for her to fight him, to rebel, so he could whip her into shape. For he wouldn't stand for insolence. But Justine did none of that, and instead she listened and obeyed. She watched him with so much interest at times it made him uncomfortable. The slave girl was full of surprises, and he would be lying if he said he didn't look forward to returning to his home at the end of the day and being greeted by her. Her smile, the kind that melted ice and thawed hearts. Justine was a gentle soul, albeit young.

The fire in her eyes still burned bright.

"Sir Ivan?"

His eyes opened, glancing over his shoulder to fine Justine standing in the stone doorway.

"Are you alright?" Justine asked. "Sir Francis said you stepped out here. Are you feeling ill?"

"Nyet, I am quite alright." Ivan managed, as he turned to face her. It wasn't completely a lie. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

Justine beamed, "I am, thank you! Though I had no idea I would see Alfred here."

"Who is that boy?"

"Alfred? He is a dear friend, I have known him since we were children. Though he is a few years older than I am. I believe he said he was a distant relative of the king or a duke at some point or another, though Alfred has a vivid imagination that likes to run away with him sometimes." She said. "Where is Lady Lillian?"

Justine found it odd that the banshee wasn't glued to his side. Normally one wasn't to far away from the other.

"Enjoying herself." Replied Ivan, shortly.

"Then… would you care to dance, Sir Ivan?" Justine held out a small hand for him to take.

Ivan took the hand offered to him, and Justine stepped forward closing the space between them. Ivan placed his hand where Alfred's once was, though granted his sat a bit lower for good measure. One of Justine's lithe arms draped around his strong neck, pulling him closer, as they laced their fingers. They couldn't hear much of the music over the loud chatter of the people, but they could hear enough. Gently they swayed, Ivan leading and Justine following. For a moment neither one of them said anything, they were just content with each other's company. She was small, pressed against him, and delicate in his arms. Yet their bodies fit together almost perfectly, like she was a piece he hadn't known he was missing.

"Justine," His voice was low as he called for her.

"Yes, Sir Ivan?" Her head tilted up to look him in the face. Dark eyes met him in question.

"Are you happy?"

Justine blinked, "Why of course I am happy, my lord." She said. "I am here at a banquet thrown by the king, I have been reunited with a close friend, and I am with you. Why would I not be?"

Ivan meant if she was happy in general, with life, with him. But he supposed her answer would suffice for the time being.

"Good." He said.

And it was, for her happiness was important.


	6. Chapter 6

6.

"Just what in heavens name are you doing?" Lillian asked in mild interest as she watched Ivan gather a knife and leather tarp from the kitchen.

"Justine and I are going hunting today." Ivan said as he motioned about.

"I am?"

"You are?"

"Da, we are." Said Ivan. "It is almost the winter months and we will need to have more than enough food stored for all of us for when the snow piles up."

"B-but I cannot hunt." Alone? With Ivan in the woods? Alone time with him was hard to come by those days, especially since the king's banquet a few weeks prior.

Lillian had all but tossed Justine off of the balcony after she caught them dancing together, far too close for her mind to handle. The red head had yelled the entire carriage ride back to the manor, Justine spent two whole days locked in her room without food and water as punishment.

"I will teach you." Said Ivan.

Justine dried her hands on her apron, tying her hair back quickly. "Well… alright then!" Anything to get out of the house and away from Lillian and her wrath as possible.

Lillian sipped from her tea quietly, watching them both from over the brim of the small glass. "When will you both be back?" She inquired.

"Before sunset," Ivan answered. "We will bring something back to have for dinner as well." He grabbed his quiver and bow, swinging them over his shoulder. He beckoned for Justine to follow him, and with that they left.

Justine had to walk quickly to keep up with the knight's large strides. "What will we be hunting?" She asked.

"Deer, boar, and rabbits mostly. But we will also get some fish if they're biting today." Said Ivan. He pulled the reigns of his horse, guiding the large animal and the wagon he pulled.

"Can we also get berries?"

"For what?" Ivan tossed her a curious glance.

"Jam!" Justine said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Jam?"

"Do you not eat jam?"

"I do not."

Justine gaped, horrified. "You will have to have some immediately!" She said.

Ivan chuckled, "Very well."

"I will make you some as soon as we return!"

"We have to prepare the meat before it spoils first."

"The meat can wait! You must try jam first, it will change your life."

Ivan chuckled once again, shaking his head. "You amaze me, Malen' kiy (little one)."

Justine blushed, turning her face to hide the sudden bloom of color in her cheeks. They walked for a bit more, Ivan explaining more about hunting (what they would be doing and what animal signs to look for) and Justine eagerly listened.

"Oh!" Justine crouched down, examining a low lying bush. "Look! The berries are ripe." She grabbed his wrist, pulling him down beside her.

Justine positioned his hands so that they made a makeshift bowl, and filled his palms with black berries.

"I thought you brought your basket." He said with a frown.

"I did," She said. "But these are good berries."

"Are they not all good berries?"

Justine, to prove a point, took a berry off of the bush and pushed it passed his lips. Ivan chewed, the dark berry was sour and tarte. Next, she picked a berry from his hand, and pushed it passed his lips.

"Do you see the difference?" Justine asked, fingering lingering just under his bottom lip.

Ivan's face was always clean shaven, and the skin of his face was smooth.

"Da, I do." He nodded.

Justine giggled, going back to picking random berries and directing the knight to drop them gently into the lined wicker basket. She picked enough berries to fill her basket, which should yield about two jars of jam. And once she was done they continued their hike further into the woods. They walked side by side, talking coolly about whatever they wanted to. Justine's childhood (her mother taught her and her sisters how to look for good berries and make jam) and Ivan shared stories about his sisters (Natalya seemed like a lunatic but she wouldn't dare tell him that). Ivan asked what Justine's sisters were like, and her mother, if she could remember that far back.

"She was beautiful," Justine said, thinking fondly. "Jahora looks the most like her."

Ivan's mother was old, he noted, with failing vision and hearing. Her joints gave her problems and she was losing feelings in her hands. But other than that, the elderly woman was still a spit fire and could still drink her only son under the table with ease.

They walked close, Justine's arm lightly brushed against Ivan's strong one, and he didn't seem to mind or notice. They trucked on for what seemed like hours, the air cooling as the day drew on. Occasionally they would stop, Ivan thinking he spotted or heard something, Justine blissfully aloof.

"Here, let me teach you how to hold the bow and arrow." Ivan said. They were taking yet another break, camped outside a boar den.

"Are you sure?" Justine asked, brow furrowed as she got to her feet.

"Da."

Ivan directed her on how to stand, legs spread to her hips width, before positioning himself behind her. He helped her load the arrow, hand atop her hand, arm under her arm. He was so close he could feel the heat radiating off of her skin, could see the fine hairs that lined her cheeks.

"Now you just have to wait for your target," He whispered. "And release the arrow."

"Sir Ivan," Justine suddenly breathed.

"Hmm?"

"Look."

Off into the distance was a small bore, a juvenile at best. Ivan gently repositioned her arms so that she was facing the animal's direction. What luck!

"Now remember-"

"I cannot!"

"Da, you can. Just relax, and release the arrow." Ivan guided her arm back, pulling the string until it was taunt. "Let go."

Justine gasped as the arrow zipped through the air, hitting its target with pinpoint accuracy. She cringed at the curdled wail the bore gave before dropping to the ground with a thud. Ivan rushed to go examine her work, looking up with a noteworthy smile.

"Did I…?" She could barely get her thoughts together.

"Da, you did!" The knight nodded. "You landed your first kill, and it is not a bad size either. We can probably eat off of it a few days. We are going to need to catch bigger ones next time though."

"Next time?" She gaped.

Ivan could see how conflicted the slave girl was. She didn't know if she wanted to celebrate such an accomplishment or weep over having taken a life with her bare hands.

"Justine."

She met his stare with tear glazed eyes. "Yes, Sir Ivan?"

"You did good."

Justine couldn't even manage a smile, instead she hung her head, staring at her trembling hands. She could still hear its cry dancing on the wind. She wanted to go home, she had had enough of hunting.

…

"Welcome back!"

Lillian greeted Ivan and Justine as they entered through the back door, located at the far end of the kitchen. It was more for Ivan, which the slave girl knew, so she didn't bother answering the dotting woman as she buzzed over.

Not that Justine could anyway, she was emotionally and physically drained. After landing her first kill. She declared herself done and even Ivan himself couldn't talk her out of it. She would never kill an animal again. But that didn't stop the knight from landing four more boars, a large deer, six rabbits, and a barrel of fish.

They would be having fish for dinner.

Ivan would be busy for most of the night skinning, deboning, salting and drying the meat to store for the later months. So Justine busied herself with preparing dinner while Ivan stepped back outside to handle the grueling task before him. He would need a good bath and a nice long soak once he was done.

Justine could see the knight from the kitchen window while he worked. Every so often he would reach up, using the back of his arm, to wipe sweat from his brow. Lillian watched Justine closely as she cooked, emerald eyes narrowed.

"How was hunting?" She asked, feigning interest.

"Just fine, Lady Lillian."

"Did you kill anything?"

"Yes."

"Well?"

"A boar."

"Oh… very nice. Is that all?"

"Yes."

"You were gone _all day_ for just _one_ boar?" Lillian taunted. "Did you do anything _else_ to make yourself useful?"

"I baited the fishing lines and helped Sir Ivan load the haul and bring it back here." Justine said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She simply wasn't in the mood for Lillian at the moment. Not unless the woman wanted a knife between her eyes.

"Very good," The older woman praised. "A productive slave is a _good_ slave."

Justine wondered just what in the hell Ivan saw in the woman.

Dinner, smoked herring, was prepared quickly with potatoes and onions. They, Ivan and Lillian, ate quietly (Lillian with nothing to say currently and Ivan too lost in his own thoughts and not at the table but against the wall, beside the back door), while Justine ate in the sitting area by the fireplace.

Justine sighed as she stared at the dancing flames. What the hell was wrong with her? It normally took a lot for people, other than Lillian of course, to get under her skin and ruffle her feathers. She needed a tough outer shell to be able to survive in this world. But living with Ivan was making her _soft_. Living with Ivan had her head filled with ideas that broke the law and went against his religion.

She stared down at her hands.

Hands that had held his while they danced, his large hand had sat just above her rear. Large hands that held and supported her today while they hunted. His strong body pressed against hers, where she could easily make out the definition of toned muscle beneath his clothes.

And when their hips connected?

A blush quickly sprang up into Justine's cheeks.

Either way, what she was feeling was _wrong_.

It was _frowned_ upon.

But most importantly it was a _sin_ and Ivan wouldn't act upon anything that would send him on an express train to hell.

The man prayed heavily in church on Sundays.

"Justine, Ivan has finished his meal and is ready for his bath. Go help him remove all of that filth. And make sure to get that stench from his clothing, try soaking it overnight." Lillian suddenly said, appearing before her with her arms folded.

"Yes, Lady Lillian."

Justine looked down at her untouched meal and sighed before getting to her feet. She prepared Ivan's bath, sitting him a fresh change of clothes at the tub's edge.

"Privet, Justine." Ivan greeted.

"Sir Ivan." She bowed her head.

The Russian had dried up blood on his forearms, splatters of it along his neck, and on his clothes. And he smelt horrendous.

Ivan chuckled as Justine scrunched up her nose, "That bad, huh?"

"You smell like death." Justine grumbled making a face. She lifted the man's shirt up to remove it.

Aside from the blood that had soaked through the linen fabric of his shirt, Ivan had scars along his torso and heavenly muscle tone.

"But we are off to a great start with food storage," Ivan went on, pulling the girl from her silent musings. His hair now tussled out of place. "Tomorrow I need you to go Mr. Smith's and get beef. We could use some of that too."

"Yes, Sir Ivan." Justine tugged is pants undone, letting them fall loosely to the floor.

Justine had to stifle a blush and avert her eyes as the knight stepped out of his trousers. The sight of his marred, chiseled body was enough to kill her right then and there. And Jesus, his glorious thick cock lidded with fine silvery hairs set above a heavy pair of balls.

' _God bless him… the lord is good.'_

Justine released the breath she didn't know she had been holding when she heard the sudden slosh of water, turning to find the knight submerged in the steaming water. He sighed contentedly, eyes closed.

"Oh!" Justine motioned over to the small cabinet at the base of the ivory tub, removing a glass jar. "Here."

She poured some of the yellow powder into the palm of her hand before dumping it into the bath water.

"What was that?" Ivan asked almost immediately.

"Sunflower powder," Said Justine. "On my way back from the market yesterday I found a few wilting in the garden. So I plucked them and grinded them down into this powder." She tapped the jar. "Just do not get any of the water in your eyes and you should be fine."

"Spasibo." Ivan returned to his previous position, with his back against the tub and his head tilted back. He watched the girl gather his soiled clothing, chuckling quietly as she all but gagged at the smell. "Justine?"

"Yes, Sir Ivan?" She paused mid bend to look at him.

"If I asked you to join me, would you?"

Justine tapped her chin as she mulled the thought over for a moment. "I would…" She admitted cautiously. "B-but I need to handle your clothing before the foul stench kills us all." Sparing him an apologetic smile, Justine excused herself, shutting the door behind her.

Justine shivered at the thought of sharing a bath with her master. How it would feel to have him hold her, naked. His mouth pressed to her ear as he spoke, just like he had done while they were hunting.

' _Jesus Christ…'_


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: So I have recently discovered Moana while babysitting one of my nieces, and now I see why she is obsessed with it. Then again she is going on three. Lol. The music is amazing, the art style is amazing, and needless to say it has inspired not just the physical appearance of Justine but also the culture behind her character (which is touched on later in the story). 'We Know The Way' is by far my niece's favorite song, and so since I had to learn it (which came naturally after watching the movie 6 different times in one day) and sing it often with her, I decided to use it here.

Disclaimer: I do not own 'We Know The Way' by Lin- Manuel Miranda and Opetaia Foa'i.

7.

Justine went about her next few moments in a daze, barely paying Lillian any attention. Though she was snapped out of her roaming thoughts when Ivan himself appeared once again, just before bed and fully clothed. His skin smelt like the sunflowers he loved so much, his hair now damp and drying.

"Will you not retire to bed?" He asked, watching as the girl read beside a lit candle.

"I will, soon enough." Justine said with a grin. "Are you going to bed now, Sir Ivan?"

"Da, at least I will try." He answered. He gave her head a pat, "Dobroy nochi (good night)."

"Erm… good night."

The Canterbury Tales was one of Justine's favorite books, more specifically The Wife of Bath's Tale. It was so much easier to relate to, being a slave and a woman, in a world dominated by men. Be them knights, nobles, or just ordinary run of the mil men. At the end of the day they were still men, and if any woman wanted to live a long and happy life, she would have to do right by them.

It was only a few hours later when Justine decided she had had enough reading for one night. She went and brewed herself some tea and made a glass for the knight as well. Ivan typically went to bed late anyways, so he should still be awake. Either reading in bed or in his study, The Song of Roland was by far his favorite.

When Justine found his study empty, she turned on her bare heels and headed in the direction of his bedroom. She stopped abruptly at the knight's bedroom door, heart suddenly racing, hands trembling as she held the glass as best she could. There, through the crack in the door, she could see her master. She could see the wide span of his back, his pale skin glistened with a light sheen of sweat. Thin legs were wrapped tightly around his waist to keep him in place. Ivan grunted as his hips continued to snap forward roughly, and Justine heard Lillian moan as her back arched.

Justine shut her eyes, turning away. She suddenly felt short of breath, her heart now heavy in her chest. She would've cried if she wasn't so shocked.

So disgusted.

Justine sat the glass down on the kitchen table and grabbed her cloak off the nearby chair, wrapping herself up in its warmth before stepping out the back door. A rush of cold night air brushed passed her, and she turned her head to shield her face in the warm fleece lining of her hood. She marched over to a tree stump and sat down, pulling her legs to her chest.

For a moment Justine just sat there, the image of Ivan's bare back and rear, burning itself into her mind. His back bore scars as well, though these were large and came from deep wounds. The way his muscles tensed and relaxed, flexing under alabaster skin. The air was thick with the stench of sex and his musk.

Her chest ached, it flat out hurt.

It was a pain she had never experienced before, and Justine didn't like it at all. A quiet sob tore from her lips as she lowered her head, she hadn't even realized that she had been crying.

Justine felt stupid, naïve.

Ivan was a royal knight, was close to the king himself, and heaven awaited him. He had a family, nobility, and an even brighter future ahead of him than she couldn't even dream of having. Most importantly, Ivan had an even more powerful family he would soon be married into (even though they were the demon seed of Satan himself). His life was destined for greatness, while hers was… well, Justine just didn't really know.

Once a slave, always a slave. Very few of them were freed, and the mass that weren't faded into distant memories once they died. No one remembered slaves, no one missed them once they were gone.

Justine lifted her head, a gentle breeze blew her hood off of her head. Thick hair was tussled by the wind, flowed loosely about her sides. She held up her hand to the starry night sky, tilting it ever so slightly as the millions of tiny speckles created a map. Just like it did all those years ago, when she was small enough to sit in her mother's lap. Her mother, warm against her, sang a song her mother had once sung to her. Telling of their people, of their travels, of those very stars that twinkled beyond her grasp.

"Tatou o tagata folau e vala' auina. E le atua o le sami tele e o mai. Ia ava'e le lu'itau e lelei Tapenapena. Aue, aue! Nuku I mua Te manulele e tataki e. Aue, aue! Te fenua, te malie, nae ko hakilia mo kaiga e." She sang.

Ivan left the bathroom quietly, careful not to disturb the spent woman sleeping on his bed as he reentered the bedroom. He padded over to the chest in the far corner of his room, but stopped when he heard a faint yet defined singing coming from the backyard bellow. Curious, he unhooked the latch and pushed the glass open. There, standing atop a tree stump, was Justine.

Her nightgown and the hem of her cloak ruffled about her legs, her lose hair riding the currents of the wind as her arms stretched out above her head.

"We read the wind and the sky, when the sun is high. We sail the length of the sea, on the ocean breeze. At night we name every star, we know where we are. We know who we are, who we are~."

Lost amongst her own melody, the girl was in a world all her own. Her full lips parted, her dark eyes closed as she remembered days long gone, with cheeks stained wet.

Ivan's brow furrowed, he couldn't imagine what would have her so upset that she would cry over it. Let alone what would posse her to be singing outside in the middle of the night. Then again, there wasn't much that he knew about her, was there?

True enough Ivan knew some things, but who was Justine really? Who was this young woman he bought to take care of his home and needs? It was almost like a stranger had been living with him for the last few months. His gaze fell to the young girl below, surprised to find that she was staring back up at him.

Neither said nothing as their eyes met, the moonlight shown beautifully on his pale skin and hair, and Justine found herself struck by just how handsome the man was. At this, she smiled woefully at him.

Yes, she was very naïve.


	8. Chapter 8

8.

"You are awfully quiet today."

"I simply have nothing to say, Sir Ivan."

"That is a first."

"I agree, my lord."

Ivan requested that Justine join him in his study while he worked, just as he normally did, though this afternoon was different. The air was thick with tension and Justin appeared to want to be anywhere else than with him. She refused to look him in the eye anymore, she shied away from his touches, and she barely spoke a word to him. Ivan found himself annoyed, to say the least, and what floored him was that he was more annoyed than he should have been.

Was she having a bad day?  
Was she bleeding?

Ivan had no idea.

And he had no idea why he cared so much.

It wasn't like Ivan actually enjoyed being in the slave's company, listening her mindless babble and entertaining her thoughts.

It wasn't like he enjoyed seeing her smile, how her eyes lit up, and hearing her laugh.

' _Dear god…'_

The pen he had been holding fell from his hand as he eyed the slave across the room, book in her lap. Her thin fingers turned the crisp pages, dark eyes scanning the elegantly written words.

"Will you accompany me to a play two evenings from now?" He suddenly asked.

Justine glanced at him, her full lips set in a frown while her brows knotted. "Would you not rather go with Lady Lillian instead?" She countered, sounding more bitter than she intended.

"Lillian will be away for a few days," Explained Ivan. "I am sure you will enjoy it if you go."

Justine thought about the knight's offer before eventually agreeing to accompany him. "Alright, my lord."

"Very well," He said. His lips tugged upwards slightly in the corners. "When I head into town tomorrow I will buy you your dress for the occasion, unless you wish to make another."

"Whatever you choose is fine." Justine replied curtly.

"Francis will be stopping by today, do you mind brewing us some tea?"

"Of course not, my lord." Her eyes slid back to the book in her lap.

…

Francis Bonnefoy could be an annoying loud mouth at times, but the Frenchman could give great advice, he was a decent listener, and well… a friend was a friend. He and Ivan had been serving the king for years now, they weren't that far a part in age. And though they had their shared number of differences, Ivan cherished the man greatly. They fought together, on and off the battlefield. They talked, Francis about the trail of women (and men) he left behind him all over the countryside, and Ivan about the things that haunted his dreams at night. And now, as they sat in his study, the two knights conversed about Justine.

"What seems to be the problem with peu Justine?" Francis asked as he crossed his legs.

"I am not sure," Ivan sighed. More so out of frustration that desperation. "One moment we are fine, and the next? She is uninterested in anything I have to say, in spending any time with me. It is a privilege to be in my study, to read my books, to be in my home! Yet, here she is… holding her peace, which you know is not like her."

Francis and Justine developed a friendship (acquaintanceship…?) he approved of vaguely, making him the best person to talk to.

"Women are fickle creatures."

"Bien sur," Francis nodded. "Have you asked her what was troubling her?"

"You know just as well as I do that she will not confess it." Ivan scoffed.

"When did things start to change?"

Ivan thought for a moment. "I suppose after Lillian arrived," He said.

Francis hummed, encouraging him to continue.

"She would purposely distance herself, locking herself in her room, not eating with e during meals. The nerve of that girl!"

"Maybe she is jaloux." Francis suggested with a shrug.

"Jealous? Of what? For what?" Ivan coughed.

"Lillian, perhaps. She has your hand and affection, she warms your bed…" Said Francis. "Justine is young, reaching her prime. Her emotions, her body, are developing. And it does not help that her master is a handsome knight she cannot have."

"You drink too much wine, my friend. It is finally ruining your mind."

"Perhaps," Francis chuckled. "But if there is one thing I know, mon amie, it is the heart of a woman. You are too dense to see what I see."

Ivan rolled his eyes.

"If you will not take Justine to your bed to quench her thirst, I do not mind doing it for you. Honhonhon!" Francis went on to kindly offer.

"That will not be necessary," Ivan grumbled. "But if what you say is true, what am I do to?" He honestly didn't know. Adultery was a sin he would rather not commit in the lord's eye.

"Whatever do you mean?" Francis feigned horror. "Must I direct you in the art of love making as well? Well! If you insist!"

Ivan rubbed his temples with a groan, a few hours with Francis felt like an eternity.

The manor fell back into its usual routine, Justine clanking around in the kitchen as she prepared meals, Ivan holed up in his study though now it was because he didn't know what to say to Justine outside of small talk. When he found her in the kitchen that night, dinner was baking and she occupied herself with mashing berries.

"What are you making?" Asked Ivan.

"Jam," Justine said as she gestured towards her bowl. "Would you care to try some?"

"Sure."

Justine dipped her finger into the dark goop, half expecting him to not take it. She gasped as he took her finger, taking it into his mouth. Ivan gave a single suck, eyes never leaving hers, before releasing her. He hummed in delight, Justine felt like she was about to have an aneurysm.

"It is delicious," He admitted.

"Uh… thank you, my lord." Justine blushed.

' _This man is going to be the death of me!'_

"You are welcome," Said Ivan. "I will leave you to your doings. Fetch me when dinner is ready."

And with that, Justine was alone once again.

The pair ate dinner in moderate silence, every now and then Ivan would say something, and Justine would answer. But nothing worth conversing long about. Lillian had left for some unknown endeavor just before the sun had set, so Justine was seated across the small table from Ivan.

Preparing for the winter months was going smoothly but it was taking longer than Ivan wanted it to, he asked if there was anything she wanted specifically, Justine said no. Food was food in her case, she wasn't picky.

After dinner Ivan retired to his bedroom early, and Justine decided the best way to end the day was with a nice bath. God only knew she earned it. Stripping down, Justine climbed into the ivory tub with a sigh. Being around Ivan now was becoming a chore she didn't want. It has been days since she stumbled upon him and Lilian having sex, days since she felt as if her heart had been ripped out and stepped on by the king himself.

The affectionate pats on the head that seemed to linger, lingered longer. Those gazes he gave her when he thought she wasn't paying him any attention seemed to follow her like the eyes of Christ.

It made being around him difficult.

Just looking at him caused her mind to drift back to that night, his body unclothed and fucking. And Lillian, Justine envied that bitch.

Justine saw the man naked, saw his well endowed…

She blushed.

Justine could only imagine those large hands touching her, caressing her.

Her breasts, her nipples.

Down the flat plain of her stomach, her naval.

Justine gasped as she touched herself, nimble fingers slipping past her folds. Her back arched as her head fell back, mouth open in a moan of his name. She imagined him above her, those violet eyes of his solely on her. His warm breath timed with rough thrusts as he screwed her into nothingness. His body between her legs, his hot, thick cock buried deep inside her. Justine whimpered as her fingers sunk deeper, her other hand gripped her right, ample breast. That deep voice of his as he grunted, sweat clinging to his skin, as he would come. Justine gasped his name as she came, back bowing off the back of the tub. A single tear rolled down her cheek, falling silently.

…..

Ivan stood with his back pressed to the wall, his cock in his hands. He should have felt ashamed for spying, it was beyond an invasion of privacy, but he just simply couldn't look away. He couldn't tear his eyes from the display of his slave, legs spread and moaning as she pleasured herself to thoughts of him.

Now, as he stood stroking himself, he couldn't remember what he had been doing prior to finding her in such a state. He could've been heading to bed for the evening, could've been in his study when he suddenly heard her. The details were a blur.

The only thing that mattered in that moment was Justine, getting herself off.

She was beautiful before, but now?

Ivan gave himself a squeeze, rutting frantically into his palms. They weren't her tight, sweet ass but they would do.

He was so hard it hurt, groaning as he pumped himself harder.

Ivan wanted her.

It was unclear then, he was unsure and his conscious was getting the best of him.

But Ivan wanted her, needed her.

He needed to feel her mouth around his weeping cock head, sucking him off with those plump lips of hers. He wanted to slide his cock, slick with her saliva, between her ample breasts. He wanted to suck on her dark nipples, he wanted to tease her. He wanted to hear her beg for him. He wanted to fuck her, just bend her over and bury himself deep inside her. He wanted her to scream for him, on her knees.

Ivan gave a throaty grunt as he spilt himself onto his floor, hands now coated in his sticky seed. He sighed shakily as his knees all but buckled on his way over to his bed. Ivan laid there for a moment, catching his breath, dick now limp against his thigh.

What was he going to do now?


	9. Chapter 9

9.

Ivan dragged Francis (and by default Theodore and Ludwig) with him further into town to shop for Justine. Francis took it upon himself to get the other men up to date with what has been happening, Theodore praised him, and Ludwig just nodded.

He would give his opinion later.

"And now you are taking her to a play?" Theodore asked. "Sounds like you are getting rid of Lillian for the slave, brother."

"Honhonhonhonhon!"

"I don't blame ya, she is better to look at."

"it is about more than just appearances," Ludwig finally chimed in. "It is about having connections with someone. You cannot expect to marry someone you can no longer stomach being around. Nobility and wealth cannot bring a lifetime of happiness."

"Says you! I bet you know an awful lot about connections due to that fine little character you brought back with you from Italy."

Ludwig looked ready to strangle Theodore, and Ivan wondered if perhaps he should have done the task alone.

"Follow your heart, mon amie." Francis said over the commotion.

Ivan frowned, he wasn't a heart following guy. Following his heart led men and fellow knights to make reckless decisions, costing them their homes, land, and sometimes even their lives.

Ivan wasn't willing to give up his life just yet.

But Justine lit a fire in him that hadn't burned in years and he yearned to feel that again.

Being wanted and appreciated, being loved.

"How about this?" Francis pulled Ivan over to a small sand where a woman and her children were.

"Good afternoon, my lords." The woman bowed respectfully. "Everything here is made by my children and I."

"Madame, you and your family are quite talented." Francis said with a smile. "We will be taking this."

"Francis, what are you buying?" Ivan asked, curiously.

"It is a secret." The Frenchman said with a wink. He turned his back to Ivan, his attention back on the merchants in front of him. "How much are these? They are for the hair, oui? I will take these too."

"What is he over there doing?" Ludwig asked, amusement in his voice.

They watched as Francis bought item after item, having them neatly wrapped by the children at their mother's side.

"Shopping." Ivan said, dully.

"I swear he was a woman in a past life."

"That's probably why he understands them so well."

"Agreed."

Francis, eventually, made his way back over to the others carrying neatly wrapped gifts he passed on to an unsuspecting Ivan. The weight caught the older man by surprise, and he caught it with a gruff 'omph!'

"When is the play?" Francis asked, seemingly winded.

"The evening after next."

"Oh good! I am not busy that day, I will be over to help mon petit Justine get ready for her first play. I am assuming it is her first play, and I will make sure she is as lovely as a rose."

"Since when did Francis the knight become Francis the fairy godmother?"

"He is French."

Theodore nodded solemnly.

Ivan knew there was no arguing with him, once Francis set his mind to something he saw it through to the end.

"Um… welcome back?" Justine said as she opened the front door, greeted firstly by the stack Ivan carried before the knight himself.

Theodore, Francis, and Ludwig followed behind him.

"Oh! Hello gentlemen… Theodore."

"Justine, you should really let bygones be bygones."

"I would rather not."

"I love you too."

Justine rolled her eyes, ushering the knights into the sitting area.

"Oh Justine~" Francis called. "Who is your most favorite knight in the entire world?"

Justine peaked her head out from the kitchen. "Hmmm… Sir Ivan, of course." She said.

Francis fell over dramatically, "You hurt my heart, mon cher!"

Justine chuckled, "You are my second favorite and very good friend."

"Really? I am?"

"Of course!"

"Good! I will be helping you get ready for the play. I picked you out something lovely to wear. You will be the best dressed maiden there before of moi."

"I thank you then." She smiled, handing them each a mug of ale. "Would you care for some jam?"

"Jam?" Theodore asked.

"Was ist das?" Asked Ludwig.

"You have never had jam?" Justine asked. "What is with knights and not eating jam?"

"Hearty men do not indulge in sweets." Said Ludwig.

"I see…" Justine left for the kitchen, returning moments later with a jar of freshly made jam and toasted bread crisps. She dipped each crisp into the jam and then handed one to each knight.

They ate them in one bite.

"Oh… oh peu Justine… this is delicious!" Francis said.

"Thank you."

"Ivan," Theodore said, still chewing and savoring. "If you do not marry Justine, I will. That way I can have jam all the time."

Ivan glared at him for a second, without saying a word. He turned his attention to Justine, who simply shrugged.

"Do not make them not want to leave, Justine."

"Yes, Sir Ivan." She chuckled.

"I will take a jar of that to go," Ludwig said, with a lick of his lips. "And another jar for Feliciano, he loves sweets. And I will return next week for another two jars. I will pay you, of course."

"Oh please," Justine dismissed. "I could never take money from a friend."

"But I insist," The German pressed. He couldn't just wake something without paying, it was against his character and moral code.

"I will buy a few jars and some of those crisps." Theodore said as he raised his hand. "How long will that take you to make?"

"Um… a day perhaps? Depends on what I have to do here around the house, and I will need to get more berries. Come back after Sir Ivan and I have gone to see the play." She said.

"You are so talented, peu Justine." Francis praised. "I am so jealous of Ivan."

Ivan dropped down onto the sofa opposite of his friends, beckoning for Justine to sit beside him. She did as she was told, and Ivan draped a possessive arm behind the back of the sofa where she sat.

…

The night of the play came quicker than Ivan expected it to. Justine haunted his dreams at night, and all he could see was her arched back and spread legs. He found himself masturbating more often, growing erect at just the thought of her. It wasn't a way he wanted to live, touching himself and not being touched in return. Lying to himself just for the sake of the thoughts of others.

No, Ivan was through with all of that. And he vowed that tonight, as he dressed himself for the play, that he would get some answers.

But there was a gnawing in the pit of his gut, for reasons he didn't know. A mixture of anxiousness, excitement, and guilt all wrapped in one. Ivan found himself pacing the floor and fidgeting. His nerves were getting the best of him.

What if Justine didn't enjoy herself? What if she denies everything? How she feels? Would she feel comfortable being with him?

Anyone who knew Justine knew that the girl was headstrong, if she didn't like something she tended to let it be known.

What if she thought he was too old?

Normally slaves didn't really care about the age of their partners, but Justine wasn't the typical slave either.

Maybe god was testing his faith and trust in him. Was this god's will?

Was god showing him, preparing him, for something?

Whatever it was, Ivan was listening loud and clear.

….

"Peu Justine," Francis whispered. "You radiate like the night sky, petite colombe (little dove)."

"I do?" She asked.

"Oui, you do."

"Do you think Sir Ivan will like it?"

"He is going to love it." Francis cupped her cheeks.

"Why did you do this for me? You have been nothing but kind towards me, most knights are not."

Francis smiled, "We knights have a nasty reputation among the slaves, this I know. But not all of us are bad. And I see greatness in you, peu Justine. You can do great things if only given the chance. I am going to give you those chances, starting with tonight. You look beautiful, mon amour."

"Thank you." Justine smiled, giving him a hug.

"Do not thank me," The Frenchman said. "What are friends for?"

There was a knock at the door, Ivan's voice followed. "The carriage is here."

Francis released his hold on her, sparing her one last glance before opening the door.

"She is ready."

Ivan's mouth dropped from shock as he stared at Justine, a blush tinting her cheeks.

The overbust corset was made of a navy blue royal satin. It had 37 flat and spiral steel bones and hand applied crystals. The back of the corset had metal eyelets, with black satin lacing down her back, and an encrusted modesty panel. The soft tulle skirt had a side closure and a train that flowed a few feet behind her. Her sparkling cloak was made of tulle and decorated with clear appliques.

The knight helped her into the carriage, climbing in after her. Ivan couldn't take his eyes off of her, and the moonlight reflected beautifully off the many crystals that lined the dress and her hair.

"You are staring…" Justine said, averting her eyes.

"I cannot help it," Said Ivan. "You are beautiful."

"Thank you." She smiled.

Ivan, in that moment, wanted to pull her into his arms. Wanted to consume her into his body and soul where he could always hold onto her.

Did she not know what she did to him?

What her smile could do to a man?

It made him weak!

They were headed to see The Play of the Greenwood, which Justine, ironically, was dressed perfectly for. It looked like she had wrapped the night sky around herself to wear, like she had stepped from the heavens itself.

Ivan would have to thank Francis later indeed.

Justine could barely contain her excitement when the carriage finally stopped. Ivan had spent the ride explaining to her how the evening would go. That the knights sat with the king, meaning she would too. They would be outside, closer to the makeshift stage than others watching the play. She didn't know what she was the most excited for, meeting the king or seeing her first play.

"Hello, Ivan."

The Russian turned, giving a deep bow. "My king."

"Yes, yes." King Arthur dismissed. "Are you going to come and sit your ass down or are you going to stand there all night?" He squinted. "Oh, you brought company."

"My king, it is an honor to finally meet you." Justine, too, bowed.

"No need for such formalities now, dear child. Just come and sit, hurry now. We do not have all night."

"You are here alone?" Questioned Ivan, brow raised.

"Well that bloody frog said he had something to do today, something along the lines of helping a young rose or whatnot. He was helping your… erm… _date_ for the evening, was he not?" Arthur sized Justine up with deep set emerald eyes beneath bushy brows. "He did a fine job indeed."

"Thank you," Justine blushed. Oh good, the king approved.

"What is your name?"

"Justine Willis, your grace."

Arthur hummed thoughtfully, sitting back in his seat.

Things were going better than expected, Ivan praised. Normally Arthur had a habit of being too blunt and hurting the feelings of others. And normally he swore like a Viking, but tonight he was mellow. There was an air of calm about him that said Ivan didn't have anything to worry about, unless the man got ahold to alcohol.

Arthur could _not_ hold his alcohol.

"Thank you for inviting me along." Justine said, laying a hand on his arm.

The skin beneath his bicep burned under her touch. "You are welcome." Ivan breathed.

…..

The play ended with a round of applause, and Ivan was the first on his feet. Mostly to stretch his stiff legs but to also pull Justine away before they were roped into any plans with the king. Not that spending time with Arthur wasn't great, on the contrary it was. But Ivan had something planned for Justine, and it didn't involve the company of their beloved king.

"Come with me." Ivan whispered holding out his hand.

Justine was pulled along by the Russian through the crowd of people getting up from their seats. "Where are we going?" She asked, looking around.

Before she knew it, they were getting further away from the town's center.

"You will see." Ivan replied, holding onto her hand.

"Secretive now, are we, Sir Ivan?" Justine mused with an arched brow.

"For tonight? Da." Ivan chuckled.

They were heading in the direction of the king's castle, and that was all Justine knew.

"Did you enjoy the play?" She asked, making light talk.

"Da, I always do. Though tonight was better." Said Ivan. "Did you?"

"Of course!" Justine beamed. "And King Arthur is such a nice man."

"Da, he is a very nice man. A good king of the people." Ivan said knowingly. "He and Francis are _close_."

"…close?"

"Da, _close_."

There was a pause. " _Ooooooh_!"

Ivan nodded, stopping short and ushering Justine to his side. They stood before the fish pond just on the outskirts of the castle, where the night sky reflected down on the dark water below, mimicking the girl's dress. Justine gasped as her eyes went wide, gazing at the sight before her.

"It is beautiful!" She said in awe.

"Da, it is." Ivan nodded. "I used to come out here every night when I lived in the castle."

"You lived in the castle?"

"Da, I used to be a royal guard to the king before I became a knight."

"If you had a choice to _not_ be a knight, even though it was something your family did faithfully, then why did you eventually become one?"

"The threat made its way here…" Ivan said, forlornly. "I had a family to protect, my loved ones needed me. Arthur was furious, having both Francis and I join the Knighthood. But it was there, on the battlefield, where our friendship… our _brotherhood_ was forged. And it was there where we met Ludwig and Gilbert… and Theodore."

"You are all so close," The girl admired. "It is really nice having such close friends."

Ivan hummed to agree, "It is. We depend on one another, and help each other… and they have taken such a liking to you."

"And I them!" Justine turned to look at the knight. "They are so kind… even Theodore on good days."

"Justine, if I ask you a question will you answer truthfully?" He asked.

"Hmmm… depends on what it is, Sir Ivan. But sure."

"Do you have feelings for anyone?"  
Justine's smile fell instantly, "Wh-what? Why do you ask?"

"Do you?"

"I… do…"

"Who is it?"

"Huh?" Justine took a step back, her dark eyes wide, her cheeks tinted pink.

"Is it Alfred?" Ivan asked. He would just have to go down the list.

Justine coughed, "Heavens no! I told you, he is just a friend!"

"Theodore?"

"No!"

"Ludwig? Gilbert?"

"NO! Look, Sir I-"

"Is… is it me?"

"S-Sir Ivan…?"

"Is it _me_?" Ivan turned to face her, taken back by the tears in her eyes. "You will not get in trouble, I swear it."

He just needed to know, he needed some sort of clarity.

"I… yes…" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Had Ivan been breathing he would've missed her confession.

"I am so sorry," A sob tore from her throat. "I didn't mean to, it just… happened and I-"

Ivan reached out and pulled the girl to him, cupping her face as he brought their lips together.

Tender, soft, unsure.

It was quant and chaste, yet so passionate.

God, Ivan didn't know how long he had been wanting to kiss her, to touch her, to be so close to her he could smell her.

Her lips were soft, just like he assumed they would be, slightly chapped but nothing he would ever complain about.

Everything was perfect.

Justine smelt like lilies, one of those perfumes that lingered on Francis' skin that constantly annoyed him. Yet it fit Justine just right.

Justine was the first to pull away, wide eyes like a deer that had been caught. Ivan frowned at the loss of connection, holding onto her hands loosely.

"What are you…?" She tried.

"Returning your affections." Said Ivan.

"But why? You cannot! What about Lillian?"

"What about her?" Ivan felt his voice rising.

"You are engaged to _marry_ her!" Justine said.

"I do not care!" Ivan hadn't for a long time. "I do not love her… and I have not for a long time."

"Then _why_ marry her still?"

Ivan's harshness fell, and he looked at her with a sadness she hadn't known the man had been feeling. "Marriage for knights is not out of love, it is _business_. This is why so many knights have bad reputations with slaves. A lot of us fall in love with them, others take out their lust and frustrations on them." He shook his head. "Marrying Lillian will solidify status for my sisters and take care of my mother."

"And if she finds out how you feel about me she will have me _killed_!" Justine cried. "What am I supposed to do?!"

Ivan pulled her into his arms, holding her close. "Love me," He said softly, resting his chin atop her head. "And allow me to love and protect you."


	10. Chapter 10

10.

Large, worn, calloused hands tugged at strings of satin, pulling them undone. Undressing Justine had been nothing shy of a distant dream up until this point, and now that it was actually happening Ivan didn't know what to do or how to contain himself.

It was like unwrapping a gift on Christmas day.

Justine stood with her back to him, hair pulled over her shoulder to reveal the lacing that led down to her rear. Ivan pulled slowly, kissing from the curve of her cheek, down the length of her neck. Justine gasped, swaying back into him.

"S-Sir Ivan," She called, breathlessly.

" _Ivan_ ," He corrected with a painful nip at the junction of her shoulder.

"Ivan~" She moaned. "Can you please just _finish_ unlacing the dress?"

Ivan chuckled deeply against her skin, kissing her once more before pulling his mouth away.

"Very well."

Ivan went back to the task of unlacing the girl's dress. "You looked beautiful tonight."

"You told me this already."

"Then I will tell you again… and again… and again…" He placed light kisses to her exposed shoulder. "I think you are beautiful."

Justine blushed, reaching to comb her fingers through his soft locks. "Such a kind and handsome knight," She said.

Ivan took her hand, lacing their fingers before kissing her knuckles.

Oh, to touch her.

Such a simple action brought him great joy and satisfaction.

"There, all done."

"Thank you."

Justine shrugged out of the dress, being mindful of the delicate sequins. She draped it over the edge of her bed before turning to face the knight, now clothed in just her undergarments.

Ivan couldn't help but stare.

Justine's cheeks tinted darker as she brushed passed him, grabbing her chemise. "Come, let's get you changed." She said, once fully clothed.

Justine pulled the knight behind her as she made her way up the set of stairs, pausing briefly at his bedroom door. "May I?"

"Of course."

She turned the bronze knob and pushed the door open. Ivan's room was exactly how she expected it to be, neat and in order. There was a large, four postered bed against the largest wall beside the window, the only window in the room. On the wall opposite of the bed was a deep green sitting chair with a stool, a trunk with his clothing in the corner, and a small oak writing desk.

Ivan watched as her eyes scanned his room before falling back on him, offering him a sheepish smile. Her hands made slow work of removing his clothing, and Ivan refused to move an inch. He was afraid that if he moved, if he so much as breathed, he would wake up from this dream.

Is this what it felt like to be in love again? To be so self-conscious that he didn't even want to be in his own skin? Speak his own thoughts? Out of fear of losing her…?

Justine tugged his shirt over his head, marveling at the flex of toned muscle. The Russian jumped slightly, his arms returning to his sides, as Justine gently touched him. Her fingers ghosted over the taunt skin of his pectorals, touching pale nipples lightly. Ivan shivered, as she traced over his abdominals, over the fine light hairs that sat below his naval and led into his trousers.

"You… are not afraid to touch me? You are not disgusted?"

Justine shook her head as she tugged his pants undone. "I am not."

God, Ivan wanted her to keep touching him. "Why not?"

Lillian, after he became a knight and the scars seemingly poured in, could barely stand the sight of him at times. There were moments when she couldn't stand the thought of touching him, as new wounds healed and warped into scars. Her emerald eyes would avert his when he dressed or changed in front of her, and they barely touched at all if he was barely clothed. When they had sex, save for her legs wrapped at his waist, Lillian didn't touch him. Their relationship had very little affection in it, no hugs, or even a simple brush of hands. Even though she clung to him possessively, Ivan seriously doubted Lillian truly loved him anymore.

It was the idea of having a knight on her arm that gave Lillian a thrill, bragging rights of the highest magnitude.

Yet Justine touched him so freely, admired him. It felt strange, to say the least.

"Because it is still you." The girl replied simply. "You are still you, no matter how many scars you have or how you look. It is what is on the inside that counts, at least that is how we were raised to look at people."

Ivan found himself stepping closer, cupping her face once again to kiss her. He would never get enough of kissing her. When their lips met, tongues clashing and teeth scraping against one another, her hands combing through his hair, gripping the ends with a slight tug. His hands kneaded the pouch of flesh at her waist. Ivan felt more alive than he'd ever felt. Sailing the seas to his motherland or standing in a field of sunflowers didn't compare.

"Sleep here with me tonight." Ivan breathed, nuzzling her nose with his own.

"My, are you affectionate." Justine giggled with a half hearted smile.

"Will you?"

Justine nodded.

Ivan guided her towards the bed, where she climbed into the man's heavy blankets and linens. Justine watched as Ivan went about changing out of his trousers and into his sleep pants. He didn't bother with a shirt.

"What do you want to do tomorrow?" He asked.

"Huh?" Her head tilted.

"Tomorrow, what do you want to do?"

Justine didn't know, honestly. What was there to do in town other than visit the marketplace, the church, or the courthouse? And they would have to ride horseback to get to any open fields or the ocean. She hummed in thought, tapping her chin. They could visit Francis and inform him of their latest accomplishment, but then again, the Frenchman gossiped more than a cluster of women and she doubted Ivan wanted their business floating all over town. Then again, Francis most likely already knew this was going to happen since he knew 'the ways of the heart', as he called it. That, and she was pretty sure King Arthur would be wanting his company after having missed the play and time with him to help her.

Ludwig would be nice, his house was further out into the country and he had tons of animals and space. They could spend the day with him and Feliciano, who, she heard had taking a liking to her jam and wanted to thank her by making her a dinner. Some native dish from his home in Italy. But Ludwig wasn't much of a conversationalist sober and it wouldn't be much fun if she just sat around while the knights drank their weight in booze.

She supposed they could visit the church, but then again once Ivan started to pray… he _started_ to pray. Like pour out his heart and soul, and that could take hours.

Never mind.

"I would like to see the ocean." Justine said, eventually, almost shyly.

Ivan glanced at her, "Then the ocean we will see."

He climbed into the bed next to her, pulling her to his chest. Strong arms wrapped around her slender waist as her head rested against him.

"Thank you." Justine whispered as she snuggled closer to his side.

"Do not thank me." Ivan planted a kiss to the top of her head.

When Justine didn't say anything else, Ivan glanced down to find the young girl sleeping soundly. So innocent and pure, it was almost shameful. He tucked a tuft of her hair behind the small shell of her ear, oh what a feeling it was to be happy.


	11. Chapter 11

11.

Justine woke the next morning before the sun had even risen. Soft kisses, placed on her ear first, then down her neck. Finger tugged her chemise undone, revealing her collarbones, down to the start of generous cleavage. She groaned as soft lips kissed the valley between her breasts, lifting a hand to tangle in his hair.

"What are you doing?" She asked sleepily, eyes still closed.

"Waking you, Malen'kiy." Answered Ivan. "It is time to get up."

Justine's dark eyes opened to stare up at him blankly. "What the hell? The sun is not up yet." She was half tempted to roll away from him and return to her slumber, but Ivan was persistent, grabbing her breasts and giving the mounds a squeeze.

"Wake up." He murmured, placing another kiss to her chest.

Justine groaned, chest arching. "Fiiiiiiiine~"

Ivan smiled triumphantly, "Good, we cannot be late."

"For?" Justine asked, sitting up.

"The sun rise."

There was nothing like watching the sun rise over the ocean's horizon. It was some experience artists painted about, what writers spoke about in poems and books. It was something that changed lives, and Ivan wanted Justine to experience that with him. So Ivan rushed her along to dress, encouraging her to grab her cloak since early morning air was colder. They left on horseback, the Russian riding front while Justine sat nestled behind him, arms wrapped tightly around his waist, head against his back.

When they finally came to a stop, Justine leaned to peak around the knight's broad body. The water laid out before them was dark as night, speckled with the fading night sky as just the faintest shades of orange and pink began to emerge.

Ivan got down off the horse first before helping Justine. There were large rocks on the far side of the bead, and Ivan took the girl's hand, lacing their fingers, as he guided her off in that direction. For a moment they walked in silence, content that he had someone to share the moment with since most of his sunrises were spent alone.

Once they were seated atop the rocks, Justine between his legs and his back to the flat surface of a rock, she spoke first.

"How many times have you been here?"

"Too many to count," Said Ivan. "This is where I used to come all the time before I took the oath of the Knighthood, and then I stopped for a while. After being around death, sometimes you just want to be left alone where thoughts of the dead cannot bother you. So I traded in sunrises at the beach for quiet prayer at the church. Sunrises back home are nothing compared to this."

"What is out there?"

"A whole different world is beyond this beach," He said. "Some willing to welcome you, others more willing to fight."

"What is your country like?"

"Russia? She is could and unforgiving, but she will always be home."

"Would you take me to visit one day?" Justine tilted her head to look up at him. She saw a kind smile spread across his thin lips.

"Da, of course I would." Said Ivan. "Whenever you want to go, we will pack up and go." He said. "What made you want to see the ocean?"

"I have never seen the ocean," Said Justine. "My mother used to tell us stories, about the island she grew up on as a child before being brought to Normandy. It is called Savai'i, with waters so blue she could see the fish swim with white sand. But here… the water is not as blue, but it was still always beautiful to her. I wanted to see what she saw."

Ivan pulled the girl closer to him, his head resting atop hers. "I will show you the world, Male'kiy. One sunrise at a time."

The sun's peak over the horizon was slow, lighting the waters as it rose. Slowly, dark faded to light, the sky dancing in pink, purple, and orange, reflecting on the ocean below. Justine stared in awe with a smile. She climbed to her feet, making her way off the rocks and over to the water's edge. She kicked off her shoes, leaving them behind in the sand. Justine lifted her dress to her knees, the sand shifting between her toes. She laughed aloud, the wind ruffling her hair, as the waves rolled up. Ivan watched her from where he sat, running away from the rushing waves and then chasing them back out to sea. Justine was gorgeous out there, like she was right where she belonged.

How could Ivan give her the world?

How could he make sure that that smile of hers never faded away?

He did not know.

"Ivan!"

He blinked, leaving his thoughts behind as his young lover smiled at him. The sun was on her back, and her teeth shown beautifully in the bright light.

All of her did.

"Da?" He swallowed thickly.

"Come here!" She waved him over.

Ivan heaved himself to his feet, climbing down from the rocks and making his way over to her. Justine took both of his hands into hers, holding them close to her chest.

"Thank you." She beamed up at him.

"You do not ever have to thank me." Ivan said. "Not now, not ever. All you have to do is allow me to make you happy."

Her smile seemingly grew. "I am already happy." Justine said, all too pleased with the flash of shock that surged though his violet eyes. "But… what are we going to do when Lillian returns?"

Ivan's smile turned to a deep frown. He knew their fairytale would be short lived, and that he would have to indulge in the young girl while he could. He didn't want to think of Lillian's impending return, he didn't want to think of the mundane routine his life would immediately fall back into once she stepped foot back into the manor. But at the same time, Ivan couldn't ignore the reality of the situation. What he was doing was not only considered a sin by the Holy Bible itself, it went against the Knights Code of Chivalry.

And god forbid if Lillian found out about how they felt about each other.

"We will go about our days like nothing has changed," Ivan said begrudgingly. "You will continue to do as she says, and I… will do the same."

"Am I supposed to be alright with you _touching_ her?" There was a hint of jealously.

"Nyet," He said. "And it will not be like touching you, or being with you. But we will do what we mist, at least until I have had enough time to call off our wedding and make sure my sisters are secured financially."

"And how long will that take?"

"I am not entirely sure." He said. "Extending status of family members is a matter of lengthy paperwork in the right places with the right people. Once they are done, Lillian can no longer threaten my family (because she will), and I will call off the wedding."

Justine seemed disappointed, but allowed herself to be held nonetheless.

They spent most of their morning out on the beach before returning home to have breakfast. The pair was later joined by Ludwig, Gilbert, and Alfred, whom Justine was extremely happy to see. Ivan wanted to spend what little time he had left with her alone, in peace, but he welcomed their company for Justine's sake.

Not that he could turn the Germans away if he tried, and Alfred on the other hand…

"It is so good to see you again, Gilbert. How have you been?" Justine asked as she served them all ale.

"Gut!" Gilbert boasted. "I am always great," He went on. "But I have been better! I have been promoted to head of the bakers' guild, I now run my own little shop."

"How wonderful," She smiled.

"You should really come over for dinner," Ludwig said over his brother's ramblings. "Feliciano id driving me mad asking when you will finally join us."

"I will soon, I promise. And do not forget your jam when you leave."

"What about you, JuJu? How have you been?" Alfred asked, blue eyes shining with curiosity.

The girl blushed at the usage of her childhood nickname. She stood at her full height, a hand rested on her hip. "I have been fine," She said. "Nothing much really goes on here, very quiet."

The German brothers knew that was a lie, but the way they exchanged looks, just by the way Ivan kept a close eye on the girl and her interactions with the young blonde boy. Alfred, on the other hand, didn't seem to notice.

"Ivan, have you considered freeing her?" Alfred turned his attention to the older male.

"I plan to… soon enough." Ivan grumbled into his mug as he drank. He didn't feel like discussing his business in front of company, everyone knew he was a private man. Except for Alfred it seem, who either did know or simply didn't care.

"Well whenever you do, JuJu and I are gonna get us a ship and sail around the world like we talked about when we were kids. Remember, JuJu?"

Justine hummed at the thought before chuckling, "You have the memory of a bear! You remember all of that?"

"Heck yeah!" Alfred exclaimed. "We are gonna visit all of the countries and climb mountains. And what did mama Rosie call her island?" He paused, taking a brief notice to how Justine's eyes grew wide at the mentioning of her mother. "I cannot remember to save my life, but either way we said we were gonna go there too and swim in the waters and eat their fish."

Justine's mind roamed back to the days of her childhood, where she and Alfred would play out in the front yard while her mother and sisters did the housework. They would be outside for hours, burning energy as they ran around and played, pretending to be the heroes and villains from the stories they heard before bedtime.

"That was so long ago," Justine sighed. "I suppose I just remember getting yelled at for returning home too late and tracking dirt and leaves all onto mama's freshly cleaned floors."

"What was Justine like as a child?" Gilbert couldn't help but ask.

"A crybaby," Alfred scoffed. "Followed her sisters around on the hems of their dresses, and cried every time her mama left."

Justine puffed out her cheeks in embarrassment, the Germans laughed, and Ivan just sat quietly, listening with interest.

' _What was she like?'_

"Smallest thing," Alfred continued. "I could easily pick her up and carry her around and I was no older than she was. We did everything, climbed trees, played in dirt, we went through this one phase where we ate mud pies for lunch. Her mother yelled at the both of us so loud old man Jenkins up the road heard her. I stayed breaking bones, JuJu stayed crying about them." Alfred paused. "But one Lady Willis took her own life… we started to see less of each other. Her mother, even though she was declared free and her and Mr. Jonathan lived together openly, kept them all close by. It was like she could sense something bad was going to happen. My mother calls it a 'mother's intuition.' I maybe saw her a few times, if that, and afterwards…" Alfred shrugged, his words trailing off into silence.

Justine cast her gaze downward, and it was then that Ivan reached over and brushed his hand along the side of her cheek, offering her a sympathetic smile.

"But, things worked out for the better in the end." Justine said with a forced smile. "My sisters are happy, and I am too."

They talked for a little more about what was going on in their lives, Gilbert bragging about himself, Ludwig was preparing for a trip to Paris, and Alfred was in the process of gathering for the season change and sought out help from Ivan. Who, by everyone's surprise, shared with him a few tips for success.

Ivan could be a cold hearted ass at times, but he wouldn't sit idly by while a fellow knight starved to death in his home during the winter. The straggling knights left shortly after, with promises to see each other again before the rains and the first snowfall. Once alone, Ivan sighed as he fell onto the sofa, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"You alright?" Justine asked, staring down at him.

Ivan nodded, eyes still closed.

Justine placed a kiss to his forehead, and violet eyes opened to regard her. She could tell there was a lot on his mind, just by the look in his eyes. She pulled Ivan up until he was sitting with his back against the sofa, climbing into his lap. Justine placed a soft kiss to the side of the man's neck, and he sighed in content almost immediately.

Justine kissed him again, this time dragging her tongue along the length of a scar, before connecting her lips to his warm skin. Ivan groaned, eyes closing, as he gripped her waist tightly. His neck was sensitive, or at least his scars were. The girl continued to tease him, lapping at the silvery etchings of his skin, hips grinding down onto his. A subtle roll of her hips, where she applied just the right amount of pressure to his crotch.

Ivan's mind began to fog, violet eyes hazy, as he forced Justine onto her knees between his legs. "On your knees, Malen'kiy." He said, his tone deep with need. "Suck me off."

Justine's dark eyes lifted with a glow of their own, as she smirked up at him. "My lord," She purred. She delighted in the shiver he gave. "As you wish."

Ivan watched as she slowly, and Ivan did mean _slowly_ , pulled his pants undone. Just enough to free his aching cock. His normally pale skin strained pink, veins wove their way down its thick sides. The extra skin rolled back in little folds.

"Do you want me to touch you, my lord?" Justine asked, feigning confusion. She batted her long lashes, head tilting.

She leaned forward, nuzzling his crotch.

"Da," Ivan answered, sounding needier than he intended. His hips thrusted up.

"Like this?" She grabbed a firm hold of his stiff cock, dragging her tongue along the length of its underside. From base to tip.

Ivan groaned, head falling back to rest on the sofa.

Justine took him into her mouth, sucking on his cockhead before consuming as much of him as she could. What all couldn't fit in her mouth was wedged snuggly between her breasts. It was enough to make Ivan lose his mind, a throaty moan rumbling deep in his chest. Justine hollowed out her cheeks, head bobbing, as she swallowed him whole.

The knight moaned in Russian, hips thrusting, as his lover continued to suck him off. It was everything Ivan had hoped it would be and then some. Warm and moist, the sensation from the light scrap of her teeth against the taunt skin.

Ivan didn't last long, he couldn't. He came quicker than he had in years, far too excited for his own good. All it took was Justine trying to deep throat him to push him over the edge, his body damn near burning and the coil in deep in his gut released and his seed spilt.

Justine fell back onto the floor, huffing her breath as she stared at the spent man, his legs still spread, on the sofa. "Feeling better now, dearest?" She cooed.

"You _tease_." Ivan managed to chuckle, eyes still closed. He should've been embarrassed, but he just couldn't find it in himself to care. That felt _damn_ amazing. "Where did you…?" The thought of someone else with his Justine made the acid in his gut rise.

"The knights treated the slave house like a whore house, I have seen my fair share of… stuff." Justine admitted.

"Did anyone ever touch you?"

"Not if they did not want to get bit." She winked.

Ivan chuckled, good. "So feisty you are, Malen'kiy."

"And you love me because of it." Justine said with a grin.

"Da, I do." He chuckled. Ivan got to his feet, securing his pants at his waist, before pulling Justine to her feet.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I do not own 'We Know The Way' by Lin- Manuel Miranda and Opetaia Foa'i.

12.

"Your song," Ivan said. "What is the rest of that song you were singing?"

"What song?" Justine tilted her head to look at him quizzically. Her hands still made quick work of fixing her breasts back into place.

"From when you were outside late that one night, out in the backyard."

Justine's blush was the deepest shades of red as her eyes widened in horror. "You _heard_ me?" She gasped. "You were _listening_?"

"More like I overheard," He clarified loosely. "I would love to hear more; your voice is lovely."

"I… I mean… ah… thank you…" She stammered.

"Now, will you sing for me, Malen'kiy?"

Justine tapped her chin, taking the man's hand and holding it tightly within her own. "Aue, Aue! We set a course to find a brand-new island everywhere we row. Aue, Aue! We keep our island in our mind, and when it's time to find home, we know the way. Aue, Aue! We are explorers reading every sign, we tell the stories of our elders in a never-ending chain. Aue, Aue! Te fenua, te malie Na heko hakilia. We know the way~"

"Where did you learn that?" Ivan asked as he brought her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles.

"It was my great grandparents' song apparently," Justine answered fondly. "They learned it from their parents, and then they taught it to my grandparents who taught it to my mother, who taught it to us. Our people were nomadic, traveling the different islands in search for food and materials. They never stayed in one place too long. At least this was true for my great grandparents, my mother told me that her parents' generation settled on an island, Savai'i, and only traveled to the neighboring island in search for things to trade."

"It is a lovely song," Ivan praised as he tilted her face to kiss her, though he paused when he heard the sound of someone clearing their throat.

"Am I _interrupting_ something?" It was Arthur.

Ivan growled, annoyed, releasing his hold on the girl. Justine, on the other hand, looked about ready to die right then and there in the sitting room.

"M-My King!" She bowed. "Wh-what are you…? How are you…?" Her brain was short circuiting.

"Bonjour, mon petit Justine!"

"Francis?!"

"I was not expecting _more_ company." Ivan stated calmly over his young lover's obvious confusion. "I would appreciate a little _notice_ next time, da? Do not need you both freaking out Justine."

But that was already too little, too late.

Ivan laid a comforting hand atop her head, but it did little to settle her quaking nerves. The king, their king, was in their house and she looked like the slave she was. She wasn't dressed for the king's company. Well… neither was the king, now that she thought about it. If Justine hadn't met him dressed heavily in adorned fabrics before she would've mistaken him for either another knight or just an ordinary man from town.

"My king," Justine breathed. "What are you doing here? Not that I am not simply thrilled to see you… again!"

"I got tired of being in the castle so I left to stay at the Frog's home. But then I got tired of being there, bloody asshole does not let me do a damn thing! Waits on me hand and foot, makes me bloody sick, it does! So now we are here."

' _He actually answered me.'_ Justine felt like fainting.

"Love making with the French is a beautiful thing, oui? We are _passionate_ and _tentative_ lovers, but it seems I may have been a bit _too_ rough with mon petit Arthur. And so he sought out refuge here." Francis elaborated, delicately, with fancy waves of his hands.

Justine blushed profusely, while Ivan seemed to be annoyed already.

"Does this happen often?" She turned to face him.

"Da… more than I would like though." Ivan said with a frown.

"Well… would you both like some… um… tea? Ale?" Justine offered nervously.

Ivan couldn't help but chuckle at how cute she was. Little did she know, Arthur was just a regular, albeit annoying, guy. He had his faults, he complained more than anyone Ivan knew, was sometimes cynical and sharp tongued, and had an unhealthy obsession with the _supernatural_ (literature and doings alike). But despite being king, Arthur was a good friend to Ivan. Had been since they were young men in their prime, and all these years later they still bickered like old women.

"No child, I am fine. Thank you." Arthur waved her off. "But I will have some of the jam you gave Francis, a taste of heaven that was."

"I apologize," Justine said. "I do not have any made right now. The last couple of jars I had Theodore came to buy." She wasn't expecting her little jars of homemade jam to make it to the almighty _king_. She felt honored, bashful, and intimidated all at the same time.

"Well _when_ will you be making more?" Arthur huffed.

"When her time _permits_ ," Ivan interjected, a hand resting at the small of her back.

Rather low.

Arthur eyed them closely, green eyes shifting between the two standing bodies before he hummed quietly to himself. "On second thought, I will have some tea." He said. "Will you be so kind?"

"Oh, of course!" Justine hurried off, thankful to get away.

Once she was out of ear shot, Arthur turned a glare onto Ivan. "Just _what_ in the bloody hell are you doing, Ivan?" He hissed.

"I am afraid I do not know what you mean."

"You know _exactly_ what I am talking about!" His eyes slid to the direction of the kitchen and then back at the larger male. "I thought you invited her along to the play as an act of _kindness_ , a bloody _reward_ for Christ sake! Not only is she still a _child_ -"

"She is _not_ a child."

"She is _years_ younger than you, you fool!"

"I am failing to see your _point_ here."

"Your _code_ , you bloody git! The _code_! You are _engaged_ to be married and you are here playing house with your _slave girl_?!"

This was one of those things Arthur did that Ivan couldn't stand for the life of him, and that was pry into others' lives and personal affairs. In all honesty, _who_ Ivan put his dick in was no one's concern save for his and the other person.

Not Arthur, not Francis, not the entire damn countryside.

"If you _must_ know what I am doing," Ivan seethed through irritation. " _Yes_ , I am in _love_ with Justine. _Yes_ , I am _still_ engaged to Lillian. _Yes_ , I am enjoying my time with her _alone_ , or at least I am _trying_ to, people like to keep showing the hell up. I was trying to before you both showed up. And since you now know, I need you _both_ to keep your mouths shut." He shot a threatening look at Francis. " _Especially_ you. Your mouth runs like liquid shit and I swear to the heavens if you say a word I _will_ gut you while you sleep."

"So… what are you going to do?" Arthur eventually asked. " _Obviously_ you cannot continue like this."

Ivan sighed as he sank back down onto the sofa, he was exhausted.

Mentally and emotionally.

"Get papers drawn up for her freedom," He said. "And I need that done _before_ I call off the marriage to Lillian. That way if Lillian tries to harm Justine, she will no long be above the law and will see justice. The tricky thing is, those papers will also need to extend my own status to my sisters, which will allow them to care for our mother and that will also recognize Justine's nobility as well."

"Justine's _nobility_?"

"Lillian and Justine share the same father."

The other men openly gaped in shock.

"How long have you known?" Francis was the first to speak.

"A couple of months now."

"And you did not tell _moi?_ I am your best friend, Ivan! Keeping secrets like this from me now?" Francis seemed almost… _hurt_ as he spoke.

"As I said, you do not know _how_ to keep your mouth shut about things sometimes."

"Not when it comes to stuff like _this!_ " The Frenchman protested. "I care for peu Justine also, I would _never_ say or so anything that would lead her to harm."

How did this go from Ivan explaining to Francis getting upset with him?

"Look,-"

"Erm… should I come back?"

Three heads turned to find a startled Justine in the doorway, a single glass of tea in her hands. The sitting room fell into such a silence that made every move she made uncomfortable. Arthur thanked her kindly and Ivan gestured for her to return to the vacant spot at his side. For a while no one said anything, sitting in a tensed, awkward silence.

Francis decided to break the silence. "Justine," He called after clearing his throat. "I have been meaning to ask you this for some time now, where are you from?"

"Hmm?" Justine blinked. "Savai'i?"

"Savai'i?" Francis made a face.  
"Yes? Well, it is more like my mother was born and raised there. My sisters and I were born and raised in Normandy."

"Savai'i," Francis said again. "I bet it is beautiful there, it sounds so exotic."

"From what my mother used to say, the waters were so blue you could see right through them, and trees that reached the sky."

"Can you tell me something in… your language?"

Justine thought for a moment before saying, " I se tasi aso, ou te fiafia e va'ai i le mea na ta'ua muamua e lo'u tagata i le fale. Se'i o'o i lena taimi, o lo'u fale lenei ma o lo'o siomia a'u e tagata e te alofa tele i ai. (One day I would love to see the place my mother once called home. Until then, this is my home and I am surrounded by people I care deeply for)."

Francis' mouth fell, Arthur grunted uninterestedly, and Ivan shivered as his lover's native tongue rolled out of her mouth. Though he'd heard her singing in it, speaking was entirely different. Ivan had never heard anything so… attractive in his life. Justine noticed the glint in his eyes and was half tempted to ask him to kick their company out and ravish her right there.

Arthur cleared his throat, "The merchant ships are due in soon." He said. "One is coming from China I am sure."

"Yao?" Ivan beamed. "Oh good! I have not seen him in a while."

"He does come with some of the best spices." Francis stroked the stubble along his chin.

"Who is Yao?" Justine wondered aloud.

"A merchant friend of ours," Said Francis. "Not very talkative, but good company one he has had a few drinks in him."

"I need to go down to the docks anyway to get a few things to have here for the winter. The rains should be here soon, da?"

The others nodded solemnly.

Justine watched as the older men fell back into their normal banter of impending shitty weather, things going on in their guilds, the king complaining about diplomacy, and Francis… being Francis. When they left the manor fell back into its normal quiet, the light patter of rain against the windows.

"Come lay with me," Ivan said as he took her hand.

Ivan loved sleeping during the rain, he found it peaceful. Justine allowed herself to be led up the stairs, back to the man's room. The bed was still a mess from their previous night's slumber. They stripped down to their undergarments before climbing back into the bed, Justine snuggling close to his bare, broad chest.

"Say something in Russian." She mumbled against him.

"Ya lyublyu tebya." Ivan chuckled once again, low and even.

"What does that mean?" She asked with a shiver.

"It means that I love you, malen'kiy." Ivan placed a kiss to her lips. "So very much."

Justine started up at him, dark eyes searching. "I… still do not understand why…" She whispered. "You have Lillian, who can give you and your family so much and yet here you are… throwing it away for me… _me_ …"

"Sometimes it is not about what a person can do for you, sometimes it is just about _feeling,_ and _living._ You make me feel so much. Anxious, happy, self-conscious, worried, blessed. Yet I also feel jealous and possessive when I see others talking to you or touching you and I do not like it. I was no longer feeling with Lillian, I was just going through life's motions and hoping for the best outcome. But now I care, and I care so much because I want you to always be happy."

Justine blushed, teary eyed. Her heart raced, as she pulled Ivan to her in a kiss. Just kissing the man made her feel good all over. To be so gruff, Ivan was surprisingly gentle with her.

Ivan rolled on top of her, his body neatly placed between her legs. Justine tugged his undershirt over his head, letting it fall to the floor unnoticed. Her fingers trailed lightly down his torso, causing him to shiver.

"You are so handsome…" She whispered, affectionately.

"Thank you," Ivan breathed, head dipping to claim her lips.

Large hands tugged her chemise up slowly, palming her thighs, her stomach. Ivan caressed her now exposed skin, enticing a quiet moan. He gave a triumphant grin as Justine pulled him down into a kiss, tongue tangling with his, tasting the stale ale on his breath. The knight released a long, low moan as Justine trailed kisses down the length of his jaw, settling at his neck. He shivered as his lover dragged her tongue along the scars etched into his skin.

"Tell me what you want, Malen'kiy." Ivan growled, fisting a hand into dark, wild hair and pulling. His harsh breaths tickled her face. With his other hand he stroked himself, bucking into his hand. "Tell me." He ground out, voice laced with need.

"I want you inside me." Justine moaned, watching the Russian as he touched himself. "I want you to fuck me."

Ivan smiled proudly at his lover's bluntness. He released his hold on his cock, tracing her vaginal lips with the tips of his fingers. His touch was tentative, as he pushed two fingers inside her, thumbing her clit. He marveled at how wet she was, his fingers slid easily in and out, slicked with her juices. Justine gave a loud, breathy moan, as her back bowed off of the bed.

"Ivaaaan~" Justine moaned as Ivan fondled her breasts. His cool tongue circled her left nipple, giving it a playful lick before pulling it between his teeth. He groaned as he consumed the dark bud, suckling like a babe.

A low, domineering growl erupted in Ivan's throat as Justine pushed his fingers deeper, hips rocking against his hand. She needed to feel more of him, impaling herself on his thick fingers.

"So greedy, Malen'kiy." Ivan mused, with a chuckle. His violet eyes roamed over her body, spread before him, hungrily.

"S-stop teasing me, Vanya!" Justine tugged at the ends of his hair.

Ivan chuckled, throaty and delighted. He pressed a kiss to Justine's collar bones, her dull nails scratched at his back, raking down his sides.

"I apologize," Ivan muttered as he dropped his trousers. The fabric pooled in the crook of his bent knees. "You are just so beautiful."

He settled between Justine's spread legs, stroking his cock one last time before positioning at her entrance. Ivan grunted as he was immediately met with resistance, his lover's breath hitching.

"Relax," The Russian groaned. "You have to _relax,_ Malen'kiy."

"I-I…" Justine tried, face contorting in pain.

When Ivan moved, Justine whimpered, eyes squeezing shut. She turned her face, cheeks resting against the pillow, as her loved moved above her. Ivan hooks her legs on his arms, spreading her wider.

"Justine… fuck…" Ivan growled, eyes closed. She was so tight around his cock, constricting his movements in the most delicious way.

Justine, moaning, pulled Ivan down to her, foreheads pressed together. Their hot breath met, eyes locked. She gives a broken moan as Ivan thrusts, well angled and deep. He keeps up the break neck speed, moaning and gripping her thighs, as he thrusted deeper. Justine, grasping at whatever she could get her hands on, arches her back as moans left her parted lips. When she moans her lovers name, she is rewarded with a rough thrust that leaves her crying aloud.

"H-harder!" Justine felt so full, and so warm, and so good.

Ivan didn't need to be told twice, a moan slipping past his own lips, as he picked up his speed. Quick and erratic, yet with some sort of rhythm. Justine threw her head back in a bliss filled scream, her nails digging into his tough thigh.

"Mmmm! S-so g-good, Vanya!" Justine moaned, head lulling in the pillow. Her body was warm all over. Her fingers tugged at his ashen hair desperately, her hips lifting to meet his thrusting ones.

"Do you feel good, Malen'kiy?" Ivan purred, sweat beading his brow.

"So goooood~" Justine cried, her back arching.

Ivan felt that familiar warmth in the bit of his gut in the midst of his relentless hard fuck, and knew it wouldn't be much longer before he came. Justine whimpered as he slowed from his hard and fast strokes, to long and drawn out movements. He wanted to savor the moment, he wanted to savor how it would feel to have her constrict around her. To squeeze him so tight that she milked every drop of cum from his cock. He wanted to savor the moment she came for him, not with her finger but on his cock, and just for him.

Justine gasped, eyes wide before rolling into the back of her skull as she came with a cry of his name. It was beautiful, Ivan thought. Sweat danced on her dark skin, her nipples taunt and sensitive, her hair wild from his tugging. It was an image of her he would carry with him always. And that was all he needed to get himself off. He gave a low groan, thrusting one last time, as he filled Justine to the brim with his seed.


	13. Chapter 13

13.

Ivan groaned as Justine snuggled closer to him, her bare legs tangled with his. If he could stay in bed with her all day he would, god only knew he didn't want to be present for what the day held. At the mere thought, he wrapped his arms tighter around her.

The manor was cold now in the mornings, the small cracks and crevices allowed more air in than was welcomed. So, Justine was thankful for the man's body heat under the thick blankets. She let out a small whine when her hips shifted, the man's hard cock brushing up against her.

Ivan murmured a quiet apology as he nuzzled his head deeper into the pillow.

They laid for a moment longer before Justine decided she needed to get up. She winced as she sat up, the dull pain between her legs throbbed as she cast her gaze downward to the man still slumbering at her side. Even while he slept, the knight was still so very handsome and troubled.

"Ivan," She yawned. "The sun is up."

He groaned, turning over.

Ivan didn't want to move, he didn't want to get up. For once he wanted to neglect his duties for the day and just stay at home with her. Days like today were the worst, days like these haunted him when he was alone and added to the blood that already well coated his hands.

Today they were executing a man, no… a young boy, for treason against the king.

Thomas Wade, who was no older than Justine. Ivan had been friends with his father at some point when he worked at the castle, he had practically watched the boy grow up. It just didn't feel right and it made Ivan's stomach ache and churn. When he did finally open his eyes, he was greeted with the sight of Justine, naked save for the linens draped at her waist.

He spared her a small smile, "Dobroye utro (good morning)." Ivan murmured.

"Good morning," She grinned. "You want breakfast before you go?"

"Nyet," Ivan shook his head. He wasn't in the mood to eat, let alone do anything for that matter.

"You sure? I can make something really quick."

"I am sure, thank you though." He gave her knuckles a light kiss.

"Are you alright?" Justine asked, eyeing him.

"Da… I am fine." He lied.

Justine studied him a moment longer before deciding to drop the subject. He was just as stubborn as she was, and when he meant to not talk about something, he wasn't going to talk about it.

Period.

And so she climbed out of the bed first to dress. "I can come with you down to the market today." Justine said as she busied herself with cleaning herself up and dressing. "I can get some stuff for us to have for dinner tonight. I was thinking-"

"Nyet. You will not go in to town today." Ivan said, sitting up.

"Oh? But I-"

"I said no, Justine." His voice was firm and left no room for negotiations or questions.

It was final.

There was no way Ivan wanted her anywhere near the horrid public spectacle. People gathering to watch others get killed like it was some sort of sick blood sport, and he wanted Justine home and far away from it. Where she would be safe, and where she wouldn't have to see him doing such a thing. He didn't want her image of him being tainted, he wouldn't be able to bare it if he scared her away.

If Ivan revealed the monster he truly was deep down inside, Justine would hate him.

"Alright…" She finally said. "I will just make something here then.."

Ivan was quiet as he rolled out of bed to get dressed for the day, slowly.

If Justine knew what his day held, she would understand completely and not let him go. She would pull him into her arms and hold him tightly against her bosom, for that is what he wanted. No… that what was he needed right then.

But getting her to hold him meant telling her the truth and Ivan just couldn't do that, not now. Not right then. Not while their romance was still blossoming. Ivan was almost sure that would ruin everything.

Keeping his thoughts to himself, Ivan motioned around in a daze, before he was done and ready to leave.

"Ivan?" Justine called for him from the back door, one last time.

The Russian paused, just as he was about to straddle his horse. "Da?" His gaze was still distant.

"You take care of yourself, you hear?"

' _How?'_ Ivan wanted to ask. _'How do I deal with this?'_

Ivan remained quiet before giving a barely audible, "Da."

….

"So how are things?" Alfred asked, eagerly admiring the sitting area, blue eyes roaming. Not much had changed since the last time he was over, save for the newly knitted blanket that was draped over the back of the large sofa.

"Things are great," Justine said with the same eagerness. "How are things with you, Al?"

"Pretty much the same, still the hero, still saving lives. Women and children, kissing the heads of babies." Alfred went on. "How is 'ol Ivan? Still a stick in the mud jackass?"

When Justine remembered how distant and quiet he was that morning, bringing forth a frown.

"What is wrong, JuJu?"

"Lillian returns tomorrow," She said. "Meaning I will have to resume my role as slave and pretend like we do not have feelings for each other. But this morning, before he left, he seemed so… so…"

"So what?" Alfred asked.

"Distant… like something was weighing heavily on his soul." Justine glanced up at Alfred from her hands in her lap. "I have never wanted to hold him more than when I saw him like that. That is not like him, and he did not tell me what was troubling him."

"I do not know what your pillow talk consists of," Alfred rambled. "But from what I have seen, Ivan does not talk much about things that trouble him."

"But he tells me," Justine pressed. "If I ask, he will answer. And then he told me to stay home."

"Really?"

"Yes!"

"Maybe I will stop by Franny's and see what he knows. And I will ask Kiku later today when I see him. He is in town today, maybe he will see something worth talking about."

Justine knew about Alfred and Kiku's friendship, and have for some time now, not that she minded her best friend having another best friend.

Because she didn't.

That just meant his best friend was now her best friend too, weither he liked it or not. But Kiku was a mellow fella and Justine didn't mind being around him at all, finding his company pleasant compared to Alfred's at times.

…

Alfred left as it neared the midafternoon, an shortly after his departure, Ivan returned home.

"Welcome home," Justine greeted as she busied herself with washing dishes.

Ivan trudged through the back door which was odd considering he only used it when he was too indecent and didn't want to track debris through the sitting room. When she spared him a moment, prepared to ask why he was using the back door, the words died out on her tongue.

Ivan, as he removed his heavy boots, had splatters of blood on his clothing and exposed skin.

"Ivan?" Justine dropped the dish she had been washing, rushing over to tend to her lover. "Are you hurt? Where are you hurt?" Her hands fumbled over him, examining him, and finding nothing.

"Nyet… it is not my blood." He replied dryly.

"Then whose blood is this?" She asked.

"Thomas Wade."

"Thomas Wade…? The son of Louis Wade? Why on earth is his blood…?"

Justine watched as the man dragged himself up the stairs, shutting the bathroom door behind him quietly.

Ivan's skin stung like he had been burned all over. The blood had long since dried and was now caked to him. It made his bile churn. He could still see Thomas, standing with his arms and legs in chains. His father tried desperately to maintain a strong resolve but he simply couldn't, Thomas was his only child.

Ivan had been one of the mend to hold Thomas in place, the other was Gilbert. Arthur had of course been present, and his advisor, Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, read off the list of offenses he had committed against the church, the king, and the country.

Thomas Wade had been brought up the same as Ivan and everyone else in town, in the church.

In the house of the lord.

They lived by the bible, the lived devoted to the king.

Ivan had known Arthur for years, and maybe that made him bias. Maybe that clouded his judgement of the man. Maybe that caused him to turn a blind eye to the _real_ Arthur Kirkland. Some people hated him, others wanted to see someone else take the throne. While some wanted his brother, Peter to ascend the throne in his place, others wanted him dead.

A king with a male lover? It was a sin, it was unholy.

Not many knew this about the king, and those who did know either didn't care or found it to be an abomination.

Thomas Wade was one of those people.

Ivan continued to mull over his day in his thoughts, completely unaware that Justine had entered the bathroom and had undressed to join him. He gave a jolt of surprise when he glanced up, eyes following the length of a lithe leg, from ankles all the way up to wide hips and round breasts.

The ivory tub wasn't large, so while Justine sat on the end opposite of Ivan, her legs rested on either side of his. Ivan watched as she made herself comfortable, hair pinned up in a messy bun atop her head. Justine said nothing as she stared back at Ivan, his amethyst eyes void of all emotion.

Justine brought her legs up, parting them, and Ivan watched as she dragged her fingers down her chest slowly. Between her breasts, the mounds sat above the steaming water, down her belly, where they stopped between her legs. She gasped as she pushed her fingers inside herself, moving them slowly, her piercing gaze never left his.

Ivan's cock gave a twitch.

He watched as she pleasured herself, fingers sliding back and forth, back arching as her breath released in soft pants.

"Ivaaaaan~" Justine moaned, grabbing at her breasts. She pulled at her nipples, rolling the taunt buds back and forth between her fingers. "Ivaaan~" She whimpered.

"Da… da… I am here." Ivan murmured as he stroked his cock, watching her. Transfixed on the girl before him, it took no time for his limp dick to come to life. Ivan grunted as he pumped himself, the water acting as a makeshift lubricant. "Do you want me, Malen'kiy?" He purred. He tugged on his foreskin, teasing his cockhead with his thumb.

"I want you," She breathed, giving a soft whine. "I want you now, inside me…!" She pushed her fingers deeper, mewling loudly. "Touch meee~"

Ivan reached out and grabbed the girl, relishing in her surprised yelp, as he pulled her to him. Justine settled on the knight's lap, a leg on either side of his waist, as she positioned his cock at her entrance. She sank down slowly, taking him in inch by inch. It took every ounce of willpower Ivan could muster to keep from impaling her onto his cock, taking him in slowly was only a tease on her part. Once settled, full to the hilt, Justine lifted herself up and slid back down, rocking her hips.

Ivan moaned throatily as his eyes rolled back, the feeling of her tight walls around him melted away every worry he had been previously feeling. Now, the only thing on his mind was her, his cock sliding in and out of her (the sight alone of his girth disappearing into her body was enough to make him bust a nut, but not quite), and the joyous bounce her breasts gave as she moved above him.

"I-Ivan!" She moaned, gripping his shoulders tightly for leverage.

Ivan bucked his hips, receiving a cry of pure pleasure as Justine threw her head back.

She continued to grind down on him, and when Ivan's hips continuously bucked to meet hers, creating the sweetest friction, Justine screamed, "Ivan!"

Over and over his name poured past her lips, her dull nails etching into his skin, as she rode his cock hard. Ivan opened his eyes, staring at the sweat laced body atop his. Justine was beautiful, especially now. Now, as she rode him, screamed for him, and gave her bod to just him.

Ivan growled deep in his chest as he grabbed ahold of Justine's neck, raking his teeth across her skin. He bit down harshly before licking over the wound lovingly.

"N-nooo!" Justine whined. "Ah! Nnngh… sh-she will see it!"

Ivan didn't need to ask who she was talking about.

"Let her," He thrusted harder, earning a pleased cry from her. "Let everyone see who you belong to."

To prove his point, Ivan took control by gripping her hips, impaling her roughly onto him.

"Mmmmm! I-Ivan! Pl-please! Not so r-rou-aahhh!" Her sway met his thrusting hips.

Ivan groaned as she tightened around him, he watched as she came with a shuddered cry of his name. He milked her orgasm as he began to buck erratically, groaning in her cleavage as he came.

What all her body couldn't consume seeped out and into the cooling water. Justine rested her head against his shoulder, planting soft kisses to the side of his neck. Ivan hummed quietly, enjoying her touch in his post orgasmic bliss.

"Ivan," She murmured. "What happened today?"

"I do not want to talk about it." Ivan answered without missing a beat.

"Will talking not make it better?"

"Nyet." Said Ivan. "I could not bear it if you hated me, of thought me to be a monster."

Justine sat up, looking the man dead in his face. "What in the world could be so horrible that it would change my view of you?"

"I helped hold Thomas Wade down today while he was executed… I watched as they killed him… I saw the moment the life left his eyes." Ivan said quietly. "A boy just barely your age, blinded by his own thoughts and the impressions of others. I can still see his face as his head fell to the ground… those lifeless eyes. His body gave this nasty twitch, moving several minutes before finally dying. And Louis… god help him."

"Oh Ivan…" Justine wrapped her arms around him tightly, resting his head above her breasts. "I am so sorry."

Ivan nuzzled her flesh, clinging to her like a babe would its mother. "Louis looked so broken," He went on. "But it is the law… and I had to…"

Justine said nothing, combing through his damp locks. "It is going to be alright, my love… worry you not."


	14. Chapter 14

14.

The pair laid in bed lazily, after rutting a few more times, they now lie completely spent and still naked.

"What is on your mind?" Ivan suddenly asked, glancing down at Justine as she lay quietly at his side.

"I will not be able to hold or touch you after tomorrow." She sighed, dejectedly.

"I know," Ivan said solemnly. "But I will find us some alone time. I did not wait all this time just to lose you."

Justine hummed, pulling the man down into a kiss. "I will get to tease you." She said, lips hovering above his.

"Please do not," Ivan chuckled lightly. "You know I am not a patient man."

"We will see," She sing songed.

Ivan growled, bucking against her and earning a muffled moan against his lips. "Do not be a tease, malen'kiy."

Justine simply giggled, combing her fingers through his thick hair.

…

Lillian returned to the manor bright and early the following morning, barely giving Ivan enough time to cum and send Justine off.

"Vanya!" Lillian greeted him, arms looping around his neck as she pulled him down into a kiss.

Justine entered the sitting area, fully clothed, her expression blank. She arched a single brow but otherwise didn't comment. "Welcome back, Lady Lillian." Justine eventually interjected, clearing her throat.

"Hello Justine," Lillian managed with a small smile. "I take it you took care of the home while I was away."

Justine stifled a smirk, "Of course, Lady Lillian." She said. Her dark hair hung over her shoulder in a long braid, she was dawning a new dress. It stopped short just above her ankles, had longer sleeves to accommodate the change in weather, and a corset that lace up neatly in the front. Her breasts sat pert and in place, heaving slightly as she breathed.

Ivan found himself staring, and when his eyes lifted to hers, Justine smirked. Lillian's words fell on deaf ears as the pair stared at each other, violet eyes warning her to keep her cool, and to be mindful of her temptations. The latter simply urged him on.

With a light sway of her hips, Justine turned her back to him.

God, did Ivan love that view.

Lillian hung herself off of Ivan's arm, informing him of her trip (even though he didn't ask), and Ivan tried is hardest to pay attention.

Really, he did.

But Justine busied herself making breakfast, and from where he sat he got a great view of her ass as she bent over. When she noticed him staring, she went over to the counter, reaching for a mug and giving him a rather tasteful view of her cleavage.

Ivan licked his lips, Justine smirked.

"What did you do while I was gone?" Lillian inquired. She was seemingly oblivious to the silent show playing out before her.

Ivan hadn't noticed that she was done talking about herself. "Oh, um… worked with the guild, spent some time with the guys, and went to a play with Arthur." He said, sparing her the details.

"Oh how nice," Lillian said, none the wiser. "And did Justine behave herself? She did not give you a hard time did she?"

Oh Justine behaved herself just fine.

"She was fine," Ivan said loosely.

"Good."

"Breakfast is ready." Justine said as she appeared, eyes low.

Lillian got to her feet, pulling the man behind her. Ivan spared Justine an admiring glance as he passed her, their hands touching ever so slightly. Justine served them their food, busying herself with other tasks while they conversed lightly. She could feel Ivan's eyes burning holes into the back of her skull as she moved, and she refused to acknowledge him.

Everywhere she went, his eyes followed. Trailing up the dip of her spin as she bent to put things away, the way her hips moved.

"Justine, will you accompany me into town?" Ivan found himself saying over Lillian's mindless chatter, effectually interrupting the woman.

Justine paused, blinking. "Of course, Sir Ivan." She said.

Ivan got to his feet quickly, he was done eating. Done listening to Lilian.

"Do you mind getting some things for me, dear?" Lillian asked.

"Of course not, what would you like?"

Ivan didn't really care.

Lillian rambled off a few things off the top of her head.

"Any requests for dinner?" Justine asked as she gathered her cloak, securing it around her neck.

"Anything is fine," Replied Lillian.

The red headed woman watched as the pair left the manor in silence, footing up the dirt path. Once they were far enough from the manor, Ivan grabbed Justine by the arm, pulling her into the trees.

"Hey! Wh-umph!"

Justine was pushed up against the nearest tree, Ivan pressed flush against her as he attacked her mouth, tongues and teeth clashing. Her hands fisted in his hair, giving it a slight pull, as he lifted one of her legs to rest at his waist.

"I-Ivan," She breathed shakily.

"You tease," Ivan groaned, trailing heated kisses down the length of her neck.

"She just returned and already you cannot handle a little teasing?" Justine taunted. "My lord, I thought you were stronger than that."

Ivan growled, roughly cupping her breasts, and giving the, a squeeze. "My resolve and patience dwindles when you walk around like this." He said. "Do you know how much I wanted to fuck you, right there in the kitchen?"

Justine chuckled, "You want me that bad, My Lord?" She purred.

Huffing, Ivan pushed Justine down onto her knees. He was so hard he ached, he hissed as the cool air brushed over his heated cock as he pulled himself from his pants. "Touch me," He gave a needy moan.

Justine's eyes fluttered up to his hazy ones innocently. "Of course, Vanya~"

Ivan gave a shiver as his pet name rolled deliciously off her tongue. "Say that again," He stroked himself. "Say my name."

Justine hummed as she pressed her lips to his cockhead, teasing the slit with her tongue. "Vanya~" She mouthed, against his thick shaft.

Ivan groaned out a throaty moan, grabbing onto each side of her head as she pushed her onto his cock. He threaded his fingers into her curls, securing his grip, as he began to lightly thrust his hips. Justine was no stranger to taking his cock in whole, her cheeks hollow, jaw wide as it would go. But the fucking he was currently giving was new, and she moaned around him. He moved slowly at first, getting her used to his girth sliding down her throat, before building up his speed, hips jutting as he moaned. Ivan gave an excited jolt as the tip of her tongue traced the outer rolled ring of his foreskin.

"Oh~ dorogoy, ya lyublyu tebya." Ivan moaned, low and husky.

Justine squirmed at the sound of his voice, how sexy he sounded. His Russian words thick with lust and desire.

When Ivan finally came, a few short thrusts later, Justine swallowed what all she could. But most of his load found its way onto the forest floor. They shared in a brief kiss, Ivan tasting himself on her lips and tongue, before he gathered himself and fixing his all to relaxed appearance.

Justine and Ivan only parted ways once they arrived at the marketplace. She having things to pick up for the house itself, Ivan occupying himself with what Lillian specifically asked for. She had been in the middle of examining fresh eggs when a large, gloved hand groped her rear. Whirling around to confront her assaulter, she was met with a guilder she'd never seen before. There were plenty of men around that took up odd jobs for pay through the guilds, more of them temps that floated between guilds and from town to town. This fellow was no different.

"Can I help you?" Justine huffed in annoyance. She didn't like being touched by strangers.

"I will pay for your services," He slurred off. He reeked of booze.

"I am no whore," Justine spat in disgust. "And even if I was, there is no way in hell I would let filth like you touch me. Now go crawl back into the hole you got out of, you urchin."

He didn't take too kindly to her sass, her audacity to refuse him. When he grabbed her again, he was met with her fist to the left side of his face. It hurt, her hand colliding with the bone in the man's jaw, but Justine didn't care.

"I said do not touch me!" Her voice grew in volume.

He worked his jaw as he stumbled back a tad, the irritated look in his eyes flashed to anger almost immediately. "You could use some manners, you insolent little-"

"Just what in the fuck are you doing?" Ivan towered over the slightly smaller man, eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Sir Ivan!" The other man's eyes grew wide. "I was just-"

"Did you touch her?" Ivan cut him off.

"I grabbed her but-"

"Do not lay a hand on her again, you hear?" Ivan grabbed the smaller man by his dingy collar. "If I see you around her again, I will make sure it is the last thing you do. Understand?"

He nodded feverishly.

Ivan turned back to Justine, eyes softening as he took up her hand to examine it. "Are you alright?" He questioned.

"Yes, just fine." Justine sighed. "Thank you."

"Of course." He kissed her knuckles softly. " I should not have left you alone."

"You cannot be by my side all the time, Ivan."

"I can at least try," He argued lightly. "I would not be able to forgive myself if something happened to you at the hands of one of these ruffians or one of the knights." Ivan wouldn't be able to control his rage, and there would be no telling what he would do.

"I will be fine," Justine insisted with a small grin. "I can take care of myself."

Ivan chuckled, humoring the girl. "Da, of course you can, malen'kiy."

"Can we take the long way home?" She asked, looking up at him.

"Sure."

Justine smiled, linking their arms. For a moment they walked in silence, enjoying each other's' company. Her head rested against his bicep, inhaling, before sighing deeply.

"Why do you sigh, dorogoy?" Ivan asked, glancing down at her from the corner of his eye.

"We are almost back to the manor," She mumbled. "That was not enough time with you alone."

"Join me in the study to read while I work," He offered. "I am content being in your company, we do not have to be doing anything."

"Can you make me a promise?" She stopped, forcing him to a halt as well.

"Da, of course."

Justine reached up, looping her arm around his neck as she pulled him down. She licked his bottom lip, pulling it between her teeth, before capturing him in a tantalizingly sweet kiss.

"Do not touch her," Justine whispered against his mouther. "And do not let her touch you."

Ivan groaned at the loss of contact, violet eyes half lidded as he regarded his young lover.

"I promise," He breathed. "Kiss me."

Justine smiled, pulling the man into another kiss.

…..  
"We have returned!" Ivan announced as they entered through the front door of his home, Justine trailing quietly behind him.

Lillian lounged in the sitting area, a book in her hands. "Welcome back," She greeted lightly. She turned the page of her book.

Justine, without a rod, made her way to the kitchen to unload their buyings from the market. She could make out the faint voices of Ivan and Lillian, though she couldn't quite decipher their conversation. There was a coiled knot in her belly as she busied herself with preparing Lillian's afternoon tea and snacks. The woman was such a nuisance.

Or maybe Justine was just even more annoyed by Lillian because she too was sharing Ivan's bed.

The girl scoffed, it annoyed her to no end how she could so easily be seen with the knight. How she could affect both their lives so much, and still keep that shit eating grin on her face. Lillian got under Justine's skin before, but now the feeling was entirely different.

Now… now she was jealous.

Now, she had a reason to care about where the older woman put her hands. Justine hissed suddenly, dropping the knife she had been holding. She stared down at the small cut on her finger in annoyance, rolling her eyes.

"Are you alright?" Ivan asked as he appeared, his voice soft.

"Yes… just fine." She grumbled.

Ivan took her hand, looking over the small incision. "You cut yourself," He frowned. "It is not deep."

"I am fine," Justine insisted. "Where is Lillian?"

"Up in the study, you seem awfully distracted."

"Do I really?"

"Justine."

"Yes?"

"Are you sure you are alright?" Ivan eyed her closely.

Justine forced a smile, "I am, my dear." She wondered how he would react to her jealousy. She for one knew she didn't like it.

Ivan hummed, placing a kiss to her palm. "If you insist." He murmured against her skin. "Ya lyublyu tebya."

Justine gifted him a sincere smile, "I love you too."


	15. Chapter 15

15.

The days following Lillian's return went on as they normally did, only now his attention was on Justine and Justine alone. What she wore during the day and how lovely she smelt after baking bread. How her hips swayed when she walked, how her chest bounced as she mixed. Short strands of stray hair clings to her forehead, adhered by sweat. Her gentle chatter and laughter whenever Francis stopped by to pay Lillian a visit, though Ivan and the Frenchman both knew he was there to see Justine.

Lillian was none the wiser.

The way she hummed or sung quietly to herself when she thought no one was paying her any attention, or when she thought herself alone. Ivan loved watching her work. He loved when their eyes met, gazes holding for only seconds, before they would look away. He loved the way he could easily slip out of bed in the dead of night to sneak into Justine's bedroom. How he could pound into her relentlessly, powerfully thrusting hips rutting into her body beneath his (though those days Justine had proven time and time again that she could ride his cock better than he pegged her for and sometimes preferred being on top), causing her to writer and cum- he drank her moans and cries hungrily with his mouth pressed to hers.

Lillian would wake the following morning unaware of her faux lover's nightly adventures, and scrutinizing the limp Justine would be sporting for most of the day.

This particular day in question, Ivan was being carted through town on the arm of Lillian, the older woman dressed in her finest dress. She was among the handful of noble women that felt that they had to flaunt their wealth and higher standing every now and then, and Ivan was along for the ride more so for a trophy than extra muscle if someone foolishly tried to approach her.

Lillian was very proud of Ivan. A natural born leader, handsome, and a chivalric knight worth of praise. He was gentle and kind to everyone for the most part, unless, of course, someone crossed him the wrong way and he switched from the doting knight beloved by all to a beast that could smash a human's skull in. Lillian mostly preferred him that way. Sure, she enjoyed the gentle side of him, but god did she love to see that man angry.

Sex with Ivan was the best when he was angry.

Raw, deep, and rough.

Lillian loved it.

Not that Ivan didn't please every time they slept together. Ivan was a considerate lover when it came to making sure his partner was enjoying themselves just as much as he was. Lillian smiled to herself, such a handsome lover he was.

"My dear," She called to him suddenly. "That woman over there is selling apples. They look awfully delicious, would you be so kind as to go buy me some?" Her voice was sickly sweet, her smile just as cold behind curved, thin painted lips.

"Da, sure." Ivan said. He gave a small smile of his own before turning his back to her.

Lillian's smile faltered only a fraction as a gruff stalk of a man approached her.

"How was he?" She asked, getting straight to the point. Lillian had hired the fellow to keep a close eye on her Russian love while she was away.

It wasn't because Lillian didn't trust him, but more so the company he kept.

"He was fine," The man said. "Though he was in town with the maid you mentioned. After she hit me and caused a scene, he showed up ready to gut me. Swore he would kill me if I touched her again." He scratched his chin in annoyance. "You din't say that bitch could hit like a fuckin' man."

"I did not?" Lillian feigned shock. She knew of this trip into town, with the slave girl in town. And didn't think much of it at first, Ivan was faithful to her after all.

But now…

"Well, this is news to me too. But rest assured, I will handle her properly." She promised nicely. "Thank you for your work."

Lillian placed a small velvet bag in the man's grimy palm. He felt its weight and immediately grinned.

"Anytime, My Lady." He bowed, giving a low chuckle, before leaving.

Ivan turned just in time to see the man he threatened only days prior leaving Lillian's side. His eyes narrowed as he watched the heavy-set man take his leave, a smug, shit eating grin on his round face. "Who was that man?" He asked, approaching the waiting red head.

"Just a passerby," Lillian calmly dismissed.

"What did he want?"

He could've told Lillian about how he protected Justine. And granted the girl was technically Ivan's property, he defended her more like a lover than hired help.

"Nothing, dear. Just directions." She smiled at him. "Shall we be on our way?"

…

Lillian insisted on making a pie with the remainder of the apples purchased in town. Ivan left her to do some work he had been putting off for days on the outskirts of town. It was something that would keep him busy for the remainder of the day, therefore he would just hope Justine would be able to hold her own against Lillian while he was away.

Lillian promised that she was capable enough to take care of the manor in his absence, dismissing all of his concerns as she ushered him out of the front door. Once alone, Lillian turned, back pressed to the shut wooden door. She cleared her throat before calling, "Justine!"

It only took a few moments for the girl to appear, looking rather uninterested in what the older woman had to say. "Yes, Lady Lillian?" She drawled.

"Do you mind baking an apple pie with me?" Lillian asked, innocently. "I am afraid I do not know my way around the kitchen like you do. I want it to come out good, you see."

"Of course not, Lady Lillian. I would be delighted."

Justine's answers were automatic, simple responses set on autopilot to spew any time Lillian was near. She kept her dark eyes low as they worked, Lillian chattering mindlessly at her side, Justine feigning interest. She had never baked an apple pie before, so hell, she was hoping it would turn out good too.

Lost in her own concentration, Justine didn't notice that Lillian had stopped what she was doing entirely to watch her. To study her movements. Though when she did notice, Justine paused, asking, "Is something wrong, Lady Lillian?"

"No, just observing." Lillian answered. "I want to pay close attention to everything you do. I need to know how to cook and prepare Ivan's meals, how you brew his coffee and make his tea. How you prepare his drink, wash his clothes. I need to watch everything you do and learn to do it better."

Justine arched a brow, "Might I ask why?"

"Of course!" Lillian beamed. "So that once we marry, we will no longer need you. I already warm his bed and satisfy his needs, surely I can do everything else as well. It is a wife's duty to maintain her home while her husband is away or out at work, and you, little slave, will no longer be needed." Lillian gestured for Justine to continue kneading the dough, but her hands wouldn't move.

Justine had to pretend to be shocked, or unaffected by her. She couldn't show that she was angry. She couldn't show that she was jealous the woman could even think like that. Justine couldn't show anything.

"That sounds like a fine plan, Lady Lillian." She eventually managed, through gritted teeth and a forced smile. "You will make a lovely wife to Sir Ivan."

The words stung her throat like stomach acid. Scorching the skin and tissue.

"Of course I will," Lilian chuckled. "it is a marriage approved by god himself." She boasted. "So in the meantime, do not do anything that will get him in any trouble. DO not cause him worry, or strife. You hear?"

"I would never, Lady Lillian." Justine kept her eyes on the fluff of dough beneath her hands as she rolled it.

"Oh, and Justine?"

"Yes, Lady Lillian?"

Justine was immediately struck when she turned to look at the older woman. The force from the unexpected blow sent the slave stumbling back a little, pure shock on her face as she held her stinging cheek.

"That was for a friend of mine." Lillian smiled tightly. "As a slave of this manor, at least pretend like you have home training and mind your manners."

Justine was at a loss for words. She didn't know if she wanted to keep even more distance between herself and the red head or knock all of her teeth out. Would she be hit again of she said anything? Would Lillian tell Ivan she struck her and would he dare to correct her?

All Justine did know was that no one, no master (and she didn't count Theodore…anymore), had laid a hand on her before and she didn't like it at all. Seething, Justine quietly excused herself to her room.

Lillian took it upon herself to prepare dinner that night. She made a simple and surprisingly edible meal, and was generous enough to sit aside some for Justine, whenever she was done acting like a child. She made small talk, asking about her lover's work and what all he had done that day. More so keeping tabs on him than an implied interest.

Ivan, of course knew this, and couldn't care less. Every now and again he found himself staring either at the empty chair at the end of the table or in the direction of Justine's room. She wasn't eating dinner with them, she hadn't even come to greet him when he arrived home. Ivan hadn't seen her since the night before.

He impatiently sat through dinner, trying his hardest not to scarf down his food and go see what was keeping Justine away from him. But instead he sat, holding conversation with Lillian, entertaining her, all while his thoughts were elsewhere.

His day had truly been decent. He spent the majority of it with Ludwig and Gilbert, the brothers assigned to the same tasks he was- creating the plans for a levee that could withstand the upcoming rains. They spent most of the day surveying the chosen area, taking measurements and drawing up sketches. Gilbert was virtually useless and annoying most of the time, though he constantly praised himself for being anything but. The one thing the man was indeed good at, though, was sketching. Gilbert could draw up blueprints quicker than anyone in the kingdom, with great accuracy.

Over the course of the next week or so they would be gathering builders and workers to accomplish said task. Once dinner was over, Ivan offered to clear the table while Lillian went to clean herself up.

"You deserve a nice hot bath after preparing such a lovely meal." He had told her.

Lillian, of course, smiled and agreed with him. She trotted up the stairs, humming quietly to herself. Once she was gone, Ivan went immediately to Justine's room.

"Justine?" he knocked softly on her door. When she didn't answer, he tried again, this time a little louder. "Justine?"

He turned the bronze knob, pushing the door open. There, on the small bed, lay Justine. She was asleep, he could tell by the stead rise and fall of her chest, with a book in her hands. Ivan found himself smiling fondly, as he motioned over to his sleeping love. He sat down beside her, the bed shifting under his heavy weight, taking the book from her.

This stirred Justine awake, and sleep lidden eyes opened slowly to regard him.

"You are home…"She murmured. "Welcome back."

"Thank you," He smiled. "What has you so tired out, malen'kiy? You did not even come to greet me."

She knew Ivan simply loved it when she was the first thing he saw upon his arrival. He reached out to caress her cheek, but Justine winced and shied away from him. Brow furrowing, Ivan grabbed her chin, tilting her face towards the direction of the dim light on her bedside table.

"What happened?" Ivan demanded.

"Lillian hit me." Said Justine.

"She did what?!" He snapped. "Why?"

"I do not know, she said it was for a friend."

For a friend? Ivan clenched his jaw shut, the guy from the market.

Justine sat up in bed, stretching, before staring at her tense lover with narrowed eyes. "I have had quite a few master before getting here," She said. "And I have done a lot of things under their word that I should have gotten beaten for and never was. Lillian is the first and last person to raise their hand to me, you hear? I do not know what is taking you so long to get rid of her, but my patience has worn thin. If she hits me again, Ivan, I will be putting that bitch in the ground. And that is a promise."


	16. Chapter 16

16.

In the days following the incident with Lillian, Justine stayed clear of the red head. She allowed her to handle the house work, allowed her to cook and do the laundry. Justine, for the most part, had very little to do. As far as she was concerned now, her days revolved around whatever she needed to do for herself. She kept herself occupied with her sewing, she would after all need winter attire and since the seasons were quickly changing she had her work cut out for her to beat the bitter cold. She read her books, the ones borrowed from Ivan's study, or the ones Francis or Arthur let her have. She had started a rather nice little collection of her own.

Mostly she liked tending to the garden. Other than the sunflowers, she had planted babys breath, larkspur, lilacs, and hyacinths, giving the drab overflow of vibrant grass a much-needed burst of color. Every now and again Ivan would cross her path, if he was home during the day, and he would sneak a caress or two. The knight was good with his hands. But Ivan preferred their meetings be late in the night, while Lillian was asleep and the chances of them being caught were slim.

Oh, how she missed him.

Justine missed when they could spend the entire day together, either in each other's arms or company. When they could be the couple they wanted to be, and not what they needed to be.

Where they could display their love for their friends and the world to see.

Where they could truly be happy, and not just play the roles assigned to them.

Ivan, of course, felt the same.

For the first time in his life, he wanted to complain. He wanted to quit everything that was holding him back and just live. Why was it so difficult to live happily and quietly?

Why was it frowned upon when said happiness stumbled into one's life and they took it without a second thought?

Well it was because a Knight's life wasn't all grand and fairytales like it was painted to be. Because being a knight was a life long job one was tied to once the oath was taken, fate was immediately sealed.

Because knights were to be praised, show model behavior, be the first in line of defense when shit hit the fan. Because knights lived by a code, and that code was life.

That code of honor, loyalty, dedication, truth, and faith.

An oath taken in blood before the king and god that bound him for life to basic human morals.

Do unto others, as you want them to do unto you.

Infidelity was a serious sin, lying was a serious sin.

Knights were modeled for the rest of the town, they were to set examples that were to be followed strictly. When knights fell out of line, they were made examples of.

They were stripped of their titles, stripped of any possessions they had. They were wither left with nothing and no one, or demeaned and killed.

Neither option appealed to Ivan in the slightest.

So he bit his tongue, and bought his time. He stomached touching her, or being touched by her. He would just image it was Justine. He withheld his temper when he found out Lillian hit Justine. Ivan was never a man to raise his hand to a woman, but in that moment he could've strangled her. He sat and quietly listened to Lillian ramble on and on about how glorious their future together was going to be.

Ivan couldn't have cared less.

Days blurred together, as he tried desperately to keep up the act. If not for the sake of his own life, then for Justine's. Death would be inevitable for her. As a slave and a mistress, she would be strung up in the town center of town for the world to see, head on a pike, and Ivan couldn't have that.

What was life without Justine in it?

So Ivan smiled when Lillian wanted him to smile, laughed when she wanted him to laugh. Tried not to break his promise with Justine as Lillian begged him to touch her.

"Why will you not make love to me?" Lillian would ask, naked beneath their sheets. "Do you not find me attractive anymore?" She would taunt him with a sad pout and mock hurt.

"I am just tired." Ivan would reply from his side of the bed. "The days are long and my body aches." He always slept with his back to her.

When Lillian was suddenly called away due to a family emergency, Ivan all but leapt for joy. She would be gone for no more than a day or so, which Ivan, at this point, was happy to take whatever he could get. This meant alone time with Justine, this meant for a moment he could breathe. He wasted no time going to tell Justine.

But when he found Justine , still asleep well into the morning, he discovered that the girl had fallen ill.

"Moya lyubov' (my love)?" He pressed the back of his hand to her brow. The clammy skin was warm to the touch. Ivan frowned, well, no matter. He would nurse her back to health, and spend their time alone holding her close.

Justine hummed in her sleep, nestling into his touch. His hands were cool and the sensation was welcoming.

"You are sick, malen'kiy." Ivan said. "What happened?"

"I do not know," Justine whined pitifully. "My throat was sore for a couple of days, but I felt bad last night after eating dinner and-" She coughed.

Ivan's frown deepened, "I am going to fetch the doctor."

"Noooo~!" Justine wailed, burying herself under the covers. "No doctor."

"No doctor?" Ivan repeated, skeptical. "Why on earth not?"

"I do not like doctors." Came her muffled reply.

The lump of linens moved away from him, settling back into the center of the bed.

"You do not like the doctor?" Ivan chuckled. "Well, malen'kiy, that is just too bad. My health knowledge is quite limited, and if I want you to get better, a doctor is needed."

"Just leave me here to diiiieeeeeee~!" She wailed, louder. So much for a sore throat. Justine felt miserable.

Ivan sighed, shaking his head. "Nyet, ,moya lyubov'. I adore you far too much to let you succumb to a cold." He got to his feet. "I will return soon, stay in bed."

Ivan gave the lump a gentle pat before leaving.

….

Ivan rubbed his temples in an attempt to ward off an impending headache. Getting the doctor to his home was the easy part, the hard part came when Justine threw a tantrum like an angry child when said doctor tried to examine her, fighting both of the grown men tooth and nail. The girl thrashed about so much that Ivan took it upon himself to hold her down in place, which earned him some nasty insults he didn't know Justine had in her. He gave a low, inward chuckle, she would thank him later once she felt better.

Now, as she lay curled up at his side, sated with medications and asleep, Ivan sighed. He combed a hand lazily through Justine's thick mane, watching as the midnight strands moved through his fingers like finely coiled silk. Justine hummed at the contact, sniffled, and snuggled closer to him.

"Malen'kiy," Ivan cooed. "You need to eat."

Justine gave a small, muffled whine but otherwise didn't stir.

Ivan inhaled deeply, "This is no discussion. I will make some stew for you. My mother used to make it for me when I was a child."

He wormed his way out of her grasp, tucking her in before leaving. Justine protested meekly, but otherwise didn't make a sound, let alone move. Ivan was gone for seemingly minutes. It took him no time to throw together a simple bowl of thick, hearty stew. The chunks of meat floated in a rich bone broth, amongst tender vegetables and potatoes. He made just enough for her to have then and later for dinner.

"Justine," Ivan called.

She stirred for a moment, and coughed for another, before sitting up to stare at him blankly. Her dark eyes were pink and puffy, her nose stuffy, and her lips were chapped from her mouth being open to breathe. She looked a miserable mess, and Ivan found it utterly adorable. His lips curved into a crooked smile as he regarded her in his bed, motioning to sit beside her.

"I do not want it." The girl rasped.

"You have to eat."

"No."

"Justine."

"No."

"Justine." That strong, authoritative voice that melted bones and turned her into a puddle of goo.

"Ou te le manao i ai." Justine shook her head.

Ivan sighed, "Saying it in Samoan will not make me stop. Being difficult will not get you well. Even the doctor said you must eat so you can build strength and get better." He said.

Justine merely stared blankly at him. She was too tired to eat, and talk for that matter. She just wanted to sleep and be left alone. She had no idea why that was asking for too much.

As if reading her thoughts, Ivan quickly added, "The quicker you eat, the quicker you can go back to sleep."

Justine mulled this over in her mind before finally giving in. Ivan gave a victorious smile, and moved closer. He was going to feed her the entire bowl, broth included. Justine sat quietly, allowing herself to be spoon fed by her lover, whom was all too happy to help.

Ivan took this time to admire her closely, other than her sleeping next to him previously, this was the closest he's been able to get to her for days. "I have missed you," He said. "You do not know how hard it is to be with her, when all I want is to be with you."

He watched as Justine managed a smile as she chewed. "Mmmmthankyou."

"Manners, dorogoy. We do not talk with our mouths full."

Justine rolled her eyes.

"Listening to her go on and on about our future together makes me sick to my stomach." Ivan grumbled. "But, on the bright side, your freedom papers are finally being written up and once they are finished all I have to do is sign them."

"What?" She coughed. "Freedom papers?"

"Da?"

"Wait, you are going to free me?" Justine gaped.

"Well, I cannot marry you unless you are freed." Ivan pointed out. He didn't know if it was coloration due to her being sick or her blushing, but Justine's cheeks blossomed with color.

"You want to marry me?" She asked, doubtfully. There was no way someone as perfectly imperfect as Ivan would ever want to spend the rest of their life with someone like her. Marriage was a life long commitment in the eyes of the king, church, and god. "Why?"

"Why would I not?" Ivan asked, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You complete me, in ways I did not know I was lacking. I thought I had my life figured out, until I brought you into it. You make me want to renounce my knighthood, to be a better person… you make me want to live, when all I have been doing is surviving. I am not perfect, yet you think I am. I am covered in scars and always will be, yet you were never afraid of me."

Justine would've wept right there on the spot, had she the energy. "Oh Ivan," She breathed.

"In your freedom papers I have mentioned your nobility through your father, that way once we marry we have land. After we are married, let us move from here. We could live out in the country like Ludwig, or travel the world first before we settle down. Or we could move back to my country and live in my old family home." Violet eyes gleamed as he spoke, with such eagerness and hope.

Justine cupped the man's cheeks, stroking the soft skin. "I love you, no matter what we do." She said with a soft smile. "Though I would love to travel and see the world."

Ivan too smiled, sitting the finished bowl of stew to the side. He pulled Justine into his lap, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Then travel is what we shall do." He said.

Ivan gave her chin a kiss before trailing light kisses down the length of her neck. Justine whined, hips grinding down onto his as large hands cupped her bare breasts through her linen nightdress.

"Ivaaan~" Her fingers threaded through his ashen locks. "I am sick!"

Ivan hummed in thought as he pulled the toes that held her nightie closed, open with his teeth. "I am well aware," He murmured, lips pressed against her exposed chest. "I just have to touch you." He pushed the fabric from the hollows of her shoulders, before lying her back among the pillows. He palmed his hands down her naked frame, fingers tracing every dip and curve in her silhouette.

God he loved her, every inch of her. Ivan placed a kiss to her navel, his nose pressed against her stomach. One day, she would carry his children. One day, his young would suckle from full breasts. In the meantime, he cupped the ample mounds, pushing them together as he brought taunt nipples to his mouth.

Justine moaned, fingernails raking against his scalp. "I am siiiiick~" Her back arched off the bed.

"Then let me help you feel better, da?" Ivan pulled her left nipple gently with his teeth before flicking it with his tongue.

Justine hissed, giving his hair a tug. She could feel his lips curve into a self satisfied smirk. Well, two could play at this game. She reached between their bodies, her hands gliding down the toned plain of his belly, where she tugged his trousers undone. Ivan paused in his suckling to release a throaty groan, hips thrusting slowly, as Justine grabbed hold of his cock, firmly.

"Do you see what you do to me, malen'kiy?" Ivan moaned, eyes rolling to the back of his skull.

Justine simply hummed, rubbing his cock head with her thumb. His breath hitched as she tugged on his foreskin, when she teased his slit. Spreading her legs wider, she urged him closer, giving his thick shaft a gentle tug. Ivan's head suddenly hung, a throaty moan rumbling deep in his chest as Justine stroked herself with the tip of his cock. She teased her clit, moaning, as she rocked her hips, allowing his cock to caress her entrance without actually penetrating.

"Do you feel good, My Lord?" She whispered, giving his dick a squeeze.

"Nnngh… you tease." Ivan said, breathlessly, hips thrusting shallowly.

Justine offered him a smile, before gathering all the energy she could to flip him, reversing their positions. Ivan landed in the pillows, eyes wide with amusement, as he watched his young lover settle at his waist.

"Just what do you intend to do, dorogoy?" He asked, brow arching.

"This."

Justine settled herself above the knight's hips, gripping his cock tightly once again as she rocked her hips, dragging herself against the length of his heated shaft. Ivan's head lulled in the pillows as he groaned, his hands grabbing hold of her waist. Justine's breath released in soft pants as she rolled against him, slicking his cock with her juices as she got them both off. The combination of her clit against him and her teasing his cock slit had Ivan moaning deeply, his grip on her tightening.

"Just let me fuck you!" Ivan roared, hips bucking.

"No," Justine panted. "I am sick."

Just because she decided to play along, didn't mean she didn't still feel like shit.

Horrible shit.

"You look just fucking fine to me!" He was beyond frustrated. He wanted nothing more than to push her down and pound into her. He thought brushing against her hole was torture, her sliding against him was driving him mad. "I need you, I need to be inside you." Ivan groaned.

Justine chuckled lightly, "This will have to do, my love. But do not fret, I will take great care of you."


	17. Chapter 17

17.

Ivan stirred himself awake, shielding his eyes from the bright rays of light that shown through the small bedroom window. He would've moved, had he could. Justine lay atop of him, arms around his waist as her dark head rested on his bare chest. Her fever broke during the night, sometime between her sucking him off and him fucking her with his tongue. He could all but hear her erotic little pants and mewls for him still, the way her hips moved against his tongue and face as she got herself off. The sight of her back bowing off of the bed as she came, her hands fisting tightly in his hair as she cried out, eyes squeezing shut. The feel of her warm, velvety mouth around his dick as she sucked. Her throat when he bucked his hips or when she deep throated him. It wasn't sex, but it was still pleasant. And in the mist of the bliss he felt selfish, like he shouldn't have forced it upon his sick lover. But Justine didn't complain, and collapsed on top of him, snuggling close with a sated smile on her lips. Now, she lay on top of him, and as he stroked her curls, Ivan watched as she slept. He took a curl between his fingers, watching as it curled around his thick digits.

How could god create something so perfect?

From her talking nonsense in her sleep to the way she woke up in the morning, grumpy with wild hair and yet she was just as lovely.

This was Ivan's own personal, heaven on earth. And if Ivan could do nothing for the rest of his life except lay with her at his side, he would.

When Justine did finally wake, Ivan had drifted off back to sleep. For a moment she just stared at him, memorizing every fine detail she could. His head was slightly tilted, ashen hair fell into his face slightly. She traced the length of his neck, over broad shoulders, pale nipples, and strong arms. The delicate hairs that speckled his stomach under his navel, the silver cluster just above the thick, docile penis against his strong thigh. Justine climbed from his body, admiring his beauty, before quietly leaving the room.

She footed silently to the kitchen for something to drink, her mouth was extremely dry and she was so thirsty. Justine drank a few glasses of water before releasing a content sigh. She motioned to move, she had berries sitting in a large bowl across the kitchen, when a pair of strong arms wrapped around her waist from behind.

"Dobroye utro," Ivan mumbled into the crook of her neck.

"Good morning, sleepy head." She sniffled. Her voce was still raspy from her cold. "Sleep well?"

"Like a babe," Answered Ivan. "You look ravishing."

"I do not have anything on." She chuckled.

"Exactly."

"Get your mind out of the gutter."

"Oh malen'kiy, if you only knew."

"Please, I told you I am sick." Justine huffed, pushing the knight back playfully as she regarded him. "Now, be a lamb and go upstairs and dress. We need to go to the market before we have breakfast. There is nothing in here to eat except for berries and bread."

Ivan had whipped up the last of their essentials in the stew he made for her the day before.

"I could always make a meal out of your sweet little-"

" _Now,_ vanya." Justine pointed.

Ivan huffed, annoyed. "Fine." He turned to leave, but not before stealing a chaste kiss.

…..

The pair walked for a moment in silence. Their hands brushing ever so slightly, arms touching. Justine admired the quickly changing scenery, Ivan lost in his own thoughts. The air was much cooler that morning, the sun mostly hidden behind the puff of weighty clouds. One could all but smell the impending rain on the air.

Justine didn't mind the rainy season, Ivan, on the other hand, made his opinion very clear- he didn't like it. Rain turned everything to mud and gunk, and made one nasty mess. It put everything on pause, and could even take someone's life if they weren't smart enough to stay put on high ground.

Justine, on the other hand, saw the beauty in it. Rain was refreshing, washing away the sins of yesterday and bringing about a new calm, serine. Sleeping during the rain was extremely pleasant, and watching as it pattered against window glass, consuming everything.

Ivan found it to be a nuisance. There was still much to do before the cold officially set in.

Justine welcomed it.

"So that we do not waste too much time here," Ivan suddenly spoke as they could easily make out the bustling marketplace off into the distance. "How about you gather the food we need, and I will stop by the metal work shop and pick up a new ax."

"A new ax?"

"Da, the one I have now has seen the last of its days and I need a new one to finish collecting firewood."

"Alright, we will meet back up at Mr. Smith's butchering table once we are done. Sound good?"

Ivan nodded, sparing her one last glance before they split ways. Justine made her way through the anxious crowd of people and over to a small stall that sold fresh eggs.

"Good morning," She greeted the elderly woman sweetly. "May I buy a dozen eggs from you?"

"Of course!" The woman beamed. Her stand was far too underrated, for she and her husband sold the best eggs in town. "I have not seen much of you lately, child. I hope you are fairing well."

"I fell ill, ma'am. But I am getting better!"

"Ill? Oh that is no good." The old woman tsked. "Here, take some ginger too. Oh, and some garlic. And have some onions."

Before Justine could say anything to protest, the old woman began piling random items into her basket, stacked neatly as protection around the eggs.

"But, I-"

"And if you make your way over to the fruit stand," The woman went on, unfazed by the skeptical look on Justine's face. "They are now selling oranges. A citrus fruit that just came in, apparently really good for one's health."

"H-how much do I owe you?" Justine asked immediately, fishing for her coin purse.

The old woman waved her hand, "Nothing, my child! Consider this a gift for stopping by once again."

Justine blinked, "But surely I can-"

"No." The woman said firmly. "Next time you can pay, but for now just take it." Her face fell into a solemnly state as she cupped the girl's hand sin her own. "Michael and I thought something terrible happened to you. There was a big, arrogant fellow going on and on about how he did a job for a noble woman, who was sure to give her slave a good lesson in manners. He spoke so vile about you, that ruthless and sorry excuse for a man." She examined the fading bruise on Justine's cheek. "I knew from the very moment he was talking about you. Not many slaves will challenge their masters, you see." She continued undeterred by Justine's blank stare. "My heart just swelled when I saw you coming this way, we have missed you. So please, consider this a gift. Take care of yourself, child."

Justine thanked the graying woman for her kindness, And Mrs. Marie gave Justine a tight, warm hug before sending her on her way. Her small basket now heavy.

The girl's next stop was the fruit stand, where she picked up the oranges she was told about, along with some apples, pears, and peaches. She would figure out what to make with them all later.

Lastly, the bakery.

"Justine!" Gilbert's beaming face stood out among the sea of townsfolk going in and out of the small shop.

Justine inhaled, the air was rich with the scent of fresh dough and baked goods. "Good morning, Gil."

Gilbert made his way to her, giving her a hug that lifted her off of her feet, before giving her hand a kiss. "Willkommen in meiner Bäckerei (welcome to my bakery)!" He grinned.

„"Danke," Justine smiled, once settled back on the ground. "This place has become quite the destination, with you selling both breads and pasteries."

"Ja! It is !" Gilbert agreed. "It was Feliciano's idea, actually. And he helps make the sweet breads sometimes too. Where have you been, mein Freund?"

"Under Lillian's tight lock and key," Justine said in a playful yet hushed voice, for dramatic effect. "And ill."

Feigning schock, Gilber gasped in a loud and dramaric manner that earned him a few worried stares from passerbyes. "Mein Gott! Are you better now?" He asked. "Is that she-witch leaving you alone?"

Justine laughed, "I am gettin gbeteer, thank you for asking! And Lillian is currently away on family matters, so i have been given a moment's peace by god."

Gilbert rested a hand at the small of Justine's back, gudiging her further into the small shop. "I was in the middle of taking some fresh break out of the oven." He said. "Care to try some?"

"Of course!"

Gilbert left her side for a monet, his sleeves rolled up to reveal strong arms that flexed as he removed a large, metal pan from a brick oven. Instantly Justine was meant with a heavenly wiff of freshly baked bread. She could still see the steam rising from the loafs.

"Here," Gilbert tore off a small, fluffy piece. "Say 'ah!'"

Justine opened her mouth, and Gilbert pushed the small morsel past her lips. Justine chewed, humming in delight and dramatically grabbing him by the shoulders, she gave him a shake. "Gil!" She said, still chewing. "You German bastard of a man! This is delicious!"

Gilbert erupted in a fit of laughter, wrapping an arm around her wasit as he spun her in a small circle. "Danke, danke!" He bowed.

"May i have anohter piece?"

"Ja!"

Gilbert fed her anohter piece, delighting in her happy hum. His broef moment of praise was cut short, however, when the clearing of someone's throat caught their attention. Both Justine and Gilbert turned to find Ivan standing no more than a couple of feet away, his arms folded tightly at his chest, an ax strapped to his back.

"Oh!" Justine chewed behind a small smile. "Ivan, Gil here has just allowed me to try some of the freshest bread I have ever tasted."

Violet eyes slid over to the smaller, pale man. He eyed him closely, eyes narrowing at the arm still wrapped around his lover's waist. "Are you going to remove your arm or should I?" Ivan asked, patience waining.

Gilbert released Justine with haste, holding up his hands in defeat. "There is nothing going on here," The prussian said, earnestly. "Just two friends, having a few laughs over some bread."

"Friends. Da?" Ivan questioned, almost mockingly. "Fine, Justine, we are done here. Let us go."

Before Justine could even say anything, Ivan grabbed hold of her arm firmly and pulled her along. She managed to give Gilbert an apologetic smile before being forced completely out of his little bakery. They walked like that, Ivan seething and grumbling in Russian, Justine being dragged practically behind him, until they made it to the outskirts of the market place.

"Let go fo my arm!" Justine suddenly snapped, tearing her arm lose from the knight's bruising grip. "I can walk by myself, thank you ver much."

Ivan ignored her, snatching her wrist up in place of her arm. He dragged her back to the manor as if he was toting back a child. Once inside, Ivan barely gave Justine any time to sit the items they bought down before he grabbed her, and tossed her over his shoulder.

"Ivan?" Justine thrashed. "What the hell?"

Ivan said nothing as he made his way up the staircase and into his bedroom. The bed was still a mess from their playing and slumber the night before. Justine gave a loud yelp as he dropped her onto the bed, rather unceremoniously.

"What the shit, Ivan?" Justine asked, brushing hair from her face. She watched, for a moment, as Ivan began to remove his vest and shirt. "Ivan-"

"You will let me fuck you, right here. Right now." He said, voice dark and low.

"But I told you-"

"I was not asking you, I am telling you."

Justine was taken back by the knight's sudden change in behavior, suddenly thrashing about as he grabbed her ankle and pulled her over to the edge of the bed. With one hand he took hold of her chin, pulling her closer to him, as his other undid his trousers.

"On your knees." He demanded.

"Wh-what? No! No!" Justine tried to push against Ivan's hips, but his grip on her tightened almost painfully. Complying, the girl got on her knees, now eye level with the Russian's half mast cock.

"Suck."

"I-Ivan-"

"I said suck."

Justine whimpered as Ivan forced her mouth open, hips bucking, as he filled her all the way down to the back of her throat.

" Ne kusayte menya, ili ya klyanus' bogom (Do not bite me, or I swear to god)…" Ivan groaned out in Russian.

Justine squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to not gag and throw up. She felt sick to her stomach.

"I know you can do better than that, kitten." Ivan said as he moved his large hand from her chin to the back of her head, fisting in dark hair.

Justine gave a small whine as she braced herself against his thighs, bobbing her head. She teased his girth, tongue swirling around his heated flesh in a way that did little to please. It only annoyed the man further, and she paused when his grip of her hair tightened. Her scalp was screaming under the strain, his large hands eventually moving to cup either side of her face. Drawing his hips back, Ivan thrusted into Justine's mouth, going deeper than where he was previously. Justine made a choking noise, giving his thighs a weak squeeze, as she screwed her eyes tighter.

"Justine," Ivan called, tone cold. "Otkroy svoi glaza (open your eyes). Look at me."

After a moment, Justine obediently complied. She shivered as her teary gaze met his stoic one, eyes ablaze and half lidded.

Ivan speed up, getting off on the gentle scrape of her teeth to the underside of his cock. His breath got shorter, releasing in gruff pants as he felt himself getting close. Justine watched as his face twisted, mouth falling open, eyes rolling, as he came. Warm, sticky semen filled her mouth. Some she managed to swallow, some she choked on, the rest trickled lazily out of the corners of her mouth.

When Ivan released her, cock still hard, Justine moved further up the bed to get away from him. Ivan dropped his pants, stepping out of them, and crawled onto the bed.

"Ivan… stop this…" Justine said quietly, her tear stained expression pleading. "Whatever you are trying to prove, I get it."

"Nyet, you do not."

Ivan pounded, pinning her to the bed easily beneath him.

"What are you talking about?!" Justine suddenly yelled at him. "What did I do to anger you so?"

"You let him touch you!" Ivan bellowed.

"Let who? Who are you talking about?"

Justine struggled against his large palms as he made quick work of removing her dress. She could faintly hear the tearing of fabric out of his frustration.

"That German gadost' (filth)." He spat.

"Gilbert?" Justine gaped. "You are angry because of Gilbert?"

Ivan sat back on his knees, pulling Justine to him where he hooked his arms under the crook of her knees. "As my lover, no other man is allowed to touch you." He positioned himself between the cleft of her pert ass. "No other man can look at you like I do."

"N-no! Ivan, wait-" Words died out on her tongue as all the air left her lungs in one, horrified gasp.

Ivan pushed himself past the untouched, tight ring of muscle that was her anus. He groaned at the suffocating feel of being constricted so. He shifted his hips, Justine's entire lower half seated in his lap. As he pulled out and thrusted back in. Justine's breath hitched, her eyes wide, as silent tears rolled down her cheeks. She gave a choked out sob as the knight sped up, her hands fisting in the sheets beneath them.

Not once did she take her eyes off of him.

Ivan gripped her hips tighter, sliding easily in now as the small stream of blood acted as a makeshift lubricant.

"P-please, Ivan!" Justine cried. "Stop!"

But Ivan was too far gone to care about the pain he was inflicting on her. Nothing save for the sweet friction of skin against skin mattered.

"I-Ivan!" She sobbed, head lulling ion the pillows. "It h-hurts!" And it did, so very much. But her cries fell on dead ears.

Eventually Justine stopped. She stopped crying, she stopped begging. She just laid there, while her lover rutted deep into her ass shamelessly. The pain died down into a blissless numb, her legs hung open, exposing her for the world to see. She wondered how long she laid there, mind blank, while Ivan got himself off to some sick, twisted thought of making a point and stating a claim. Justine was torn, torn between being absolutely heartbroken over the turn of events and knowing, and literally.

She knew knights, had seen them come in and out of the slave house. Seen them force other slaves to do exactly what Ivan was doing now, using their bodies to satisfy themselves and then leave once they were done. Only Ivan wouldn't be leaving for her owned her.

Somewhere deep down Justine just knew something was bound to happen, where the perfect fairytale she wanted so desperately to be apart of would come crumbling down around her. Though she didn't know it would be with a thick dick buried inside her ass by the man she thought she loved. The pain below did nothing to dull the pain in her chest, from her heart.

Everything just hurt, and the slow closing of her eyes lulled her to a deep place within where nothing and no one could reach her. She didn't react when Ivan came, filling her ass, with a deep growl, before releasing his hold on her legs. They fell limply to the side as he pulled out of her with a grunt.

Ivan reached to touch her, to move her hair back from her face, but Justine jerked away from him.

"No…" Justine said meekly. "Do not touch me." She tried to sit up, wincing, before falling back into the pillows. Inhaling a shaky breath, she glared at her lover. "Do not touch me… ever again."

As the euphoric fog that clouded his mind began to fade, Ivan's heart dropped.

Dear god.

"I begged you to stop… I told you it hurt… and you kept going."

"Justine, I-"

"Jealousy is such a nasty trait." Justine found the strength to sit up, giving a small cry of discomfort as she willed herself to get up from the bed. She felt as if her legs were going to give out on her right then, but she stood her ground. "There is nothing more that I wanted except to see you happy… and I loved you so… so much."

"Justine…" Ivan's eyes followed the slow trickled of blood that slid down her thigh.

"I loved you… and only you… not Alfred, not Gilbert…. Theodore… just you. And you just…" Her dark eyes lifted from the floor to meet his.

"Justine… I…"

"Lillian can have you!" She pushed past him, walking with a noticeable limp.

"Please, Justine… I am sorry. I just saw him touching you… so close to you, the way he looked at you and I just lost it. "

Ivan tried to reach out for her, to plead with her to try to understand and to beg for forgiveness, but he was met with a harsh slap to the face.

"I said do not touch me!" Justine yelled, hoarse voice cracking.

Ivan watched helplessly as she made her way out of the room, the door shutting behind her.


	18. Chapter 18

18.

Ivan spent the night alone. The manor cloaked in an eerie silence, other than the home making it usual sounder under the beating of winds and creaking of old wood. Ivan prided himself on self-control, on being an example to younger knights in training. But the moment he was Gilbert, arms around Justine, they both sharing in laughs and jokes, he felt his insecurities rise to the surface and boil over. Gilbert, as loud and obnoxious as he was, was still a handsome, young man. He was talented, younger, hadn't seen the spoils of war so he wasn't disfigured or scarred. He was the epitome of youth and his smile was contagious. Ivan had caught him on more than one occasion stealing glances at Justine, his Justine, when he thought the others were far too preoccupied to pay him any attention. Francis told him that he would ask Ludwig about Justine. Ivan didn't mean to snap, god only knew he would never purposely do anything to hurt Justine. But in that sliver of a moment, Ivan felt that he would lose his young love. He felt the Prussian would somehow gain an upper hand, and take his beloved away, and Ivan just couldn't stand for that. He needed to remind the girl what it was she loved about him.

And so he did.

But the plan backfired horribly, and now Justine wanted nothing to do with him.

Justine hated him, and she had every right to.

…

"Justine?! What are you doing here?" Francis easily caught the girl as she collapsed into him, his strong arms scooping her up as he kicked the door shut.

"Fran, who was that at the-" Arthur stopped in his tracks when he saw his lover, holding a barely conscious Justine. "Is that…?"

"Quickly, help me get her to the spare bedroom." Francis said, urgently.

"What the bloody hell happened?" Arthur asked, following behind the taller male.

Francis gestured for Arthur open the shut door, and once it was open he motioned to lay her down. When she gave a small cry, Francis laid her down on her right side.

"Justine," He said as calmly as he could. "What is the matter, petit oiseau (little bird) ?"

"Ivan…" She whispered softly, tears swelling back up in her dark eyes.

"Ivan ? What about him ? "

"Francis, she is bleeding. " Arthur pointed out, moving closer to the bed. Arthur took the hem of her dress into his hands and hiked it up to her waist, following the trail of blood to her rear. He knew what this was almost immediately, for he was there some odd years ago. "Justine," His voice was stern. "Did Ivan do this to you ? Tell us what happened. "

"I… we went to the market, and he saw Gilbert and I laughing and talking and he just lost it." Justine spoke through quiet sobs. "I begged him to stop… I told hi mit hurt… but he would not listen to me."

Arthur examined her rear, she wouldnt ned stitches but it would take some time for it to heal properly. Francis got to his feet, enraged.

"I am going to kill him." He said through gritted teeth.

Arthur, seeing this, left Justine's side in order to stop the Frenchman from doing something he would regret. "Francis !" He said. "You need to calm down."

"Calm down ?" Francis spat bitterly. "Look what he did to her ! To mon petit Justine !"

Arthur watched as Francis ranted and raved in French, arms waving about as he paced the floor. He sighed deeply before turning his attention back to the child on his spare bed. "I have something for the pain, both physical and emotional. But first, let us get you cleaned up." His voice was calm, soothing.

After getting Justine into a warm bath to soak and changed into a clean linen night shirt, the older couple settled her in the spare bedroom with a mug of ale and a aloe ointment on her abused rear.

"You will feel better by morning." Arthur reassured knowingly.

"Why does love hurt so much ?" Justine murmured aloud.

"Love is such a complicated thing," Francis said. "You are young and experiencing your first love. You have yet to feel the burden of what it meant to love someone with all of your heart just to have them reject you. Ivan, luckily, felt the same way you did. When I first confessed my love to Arthur, he was but a boy and still the crowned prince. His mother, Elizabeth, was still queen. I knew Arthur loved me, but because of his image and impending role as king, he rejected me. And it hurt me so much I swore to never love another man again. And so I slept with as many beautiful women as I could to dull the ache in my heart, hoping the flesh would heal the void that unrequited love had left. But it did not. And years later… here we are. " He paused. "Love can be both a blessing and a curse, it can cloud up our minds and make us do things we should not do. Ivan was only loved by someone once, and that as Lillian. But after he returned from a crusade, covered in wounds and barely clinging to life, her view of him changed. You see, some women do not mind a man with scars for each has a story behind it. And at first she was excited, her handsome lover was such a valiant knight and a war hero. But the more gruesome the wounds were, the more hideous the scars became. And eventually Lillian could not stand the sight of him at times. This hurt Ivan tremendously, and he stated to hate himself. He became cold. It is not hard to love a person, and not be in love with them. Though he would never say it outloud, I knew he was hurting. There is nothing he has ever wanted more than to love someone who did not care how he looked. And then he met you. You changed him, Justine. Love brings out the best… and the worst in people. And Ivan has always been a jealous man. He may seem confident, but that is a façade to hide his many insecurities. He is twenty years your senior, hem ost likely feels like Gilbert or anyone for that matter, is going to swoop in and take you away from him and he will be alone again."

"I ave told him on more than one occasion that i love him, and only him… are you saying i should not be mad at him ?" Justine felt conflicted.

"Of course not ! He deserves your wrath. All I am saying is do not give up on him just yet." Said Francis.

"He must be worried out of his mind already with you not being there." Arthur pointed out.

"Good… let him worry." SHe grumbled, pulling her knees to her chest. She felt fresh tears sting her eyes, and she tried her hardest to blink them away.

"Here child, drink your ale and get some rest." Arthur gave her head a gentle pat. "In the morning we will eat and think of what to do next, alright ?"

Justine nodded quietly, not saying a word.

The king gathered the Frenchman out of the room with him, shutting the door without a sound. They walked quietly to the bedroom they shared, each releasing a breath they didnt know they were holding.

"What are we going to do, mon amie ?" Francis asked. "We cannot send her back like this, not now."

"She will stay the night with us, and tomorrow…" His words trailed off. Arthur didn't know what to do, or what was best. He felt obligated to protect the child, not just for her sake but for Francis' sanity as well. His lover had taken a liking to the young slave for reasons he didnt quite understand, but what he did know was that Francis dotted on Justine like she was the child he never had and it hurt him more than anything seeing her like this.

"Is it wrong that I hate him ?" Francis asked softly, sitting down their bed.

"No… it is not… but…"

"But what, Arthur ?" He asked he rubbed his face. Francis looked exhausted.

"I do not know." The knig answered honestly. "We will talk more about it in the morning."

….

Ivan gathered himself as best he could to ready for Lillian's return. Fresh linens, frshly brewed tea. He had to keep himself busy or else he would lose his mind. Justine still hadn't returned and itw as well into the afternoon. On more than one occasion he found himself staring out a window at the dirt road that led up to his home.

Nothing.

It wasn't until much later in the day that he recieved a rather hasty knock at the front door, and when he opened it, he was half expecting Justine.

"Ivan." Francis greeted him curtly. "We need to talk. Now."

The Frencham didn't wait for the Russian to invite him in. Francis moved a slightly stunned Ivan to the side, stepping inside before gesturing for Justine to follow him in. The girl bore one of Arthur's royal, deep green cloaks, her dark eyes on the ground as she passed him without a look.

"Go on, why not head to your room and settle in, hmm ?" Francis suggested warmly, sending her off.

Justine simply gave a nod, leaving the two men alone. Once she was out of ear sight, Francis lifted the back of his hand and slapped Ivan hard across the face.

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself !" He seethed, his accent dripping off each word more than normal.

"If you are here to make me feel worse, old friend, then please do not bother." Ivan retorted, working his now stinging jaw.

"Of all the things you could do, Ivan. This ? This was not okay. Rape is never an option for this. You know this !"

Ivan sunk down onto the sofa, head in his hands. "Does she hate me now ?"

"You will have to talk to her yourself." Said Francis.

"She will not talk to me, let alone look at me."

"Do you blame her ?"

"Nyet."

"She will most likely need some time, if anything allow her to come to you." Francis rubbed his brow tiredly. "You know the reputation we have amongst the slaves. How could you let yourself lose control like this, Ivan ?"

Ivan shook his head, "I do not know."

Francis sighed, frustrated, as he too sat down. "You have to fix this." He said. "Justine is the best thing to walk into your life in a very long time. She deserves a lover that will trust her, and listen to her."

"She deserves more than I can give her." Ivan mumbled woefully.

"She deserves the man she fell in love with !" Francis snapped. "Now pick yourself up off your ass and fix what you screwed up !"

"I do not know how !"

"Figure it out !"

"Ivan ?"

His head shot up when he recognized the voice, like nails scrapping glass. Lillian had just walked through the door, her smile faultering once she realized just how tense the room was.

"Is… everything alright, my dear ?" She turned her emerald gaze to an equally worn Francis. "You both seem… troubled."

"Da… everything is just fine, welcome back." Ivan forced with a smile.

"Thank you," Said Lillian. "Francis, love, would you like some tea ? You look like you have not slept a wink in days. I hope you are well."

"Oui, I am fine." He dismissed. "How was your trip ?"

"Oh ! It was fine. My dear aunt had fallen dreadfully ill, my cousin thought she would not live through the night. But she pulled through and is doing much better, thank you for asking."

"Do not mention it." Francis managed with a quiet chuckle.

"Where is Justine ? She needs to unload the carriage. I brought a few things back with me."

"She is… resting." Ivan said. "She too fell ill and is recovering from it still."

Lillian seemed to take this into consideration, but in all honestly she couldn't care less. "Fetch her anyway, and tell her to be careful not to scuff the leather."

"Francis and I will handle it."

Lillian arched a fine red brow, eyeing the two knights closely. "Very well… do not scuff the leather."

When Lillian disappeared up the stairs, Francis sighed, gripping the bridge of his nose. "I cannot handle her right now." He grumbled.

"And I can ?" Ivan sighed dejectedly.

They unloaded the carriage without much talking, Ivan feeling horrible still and Francis taking it upon himself to make his friend feel worse for good measure. Once they were done, Francis turned and gave Ivan one more disappointed glare. He cared about Ivan, loved him dearly like the brother he never had, but the Russian was on his own with fixing this problem.

"Au revoir, Ivan." Francis said before taking his leave. "I pray both you and Justine find peace."

Yeah… so he did.


	19. Chapter 19

19.

Ivan found himself pacing anxiously once again. Justine and Lillian were both there and yet Ivan had never felt so alone. And being alone was extremely bothersome. Lillian would want to spend time with him, she would want him to touch her.

Would Justine still care?

He certainly still did.

Ivan didn't want anyone else except for her.

But Lillian was persistent.

Would Justine ever talk to him again? He couldn't imagine living under the same roof as her and not hearing her speak. Not hearing her laugh or sing again. It made him sadder than what he already was. He jumped suddenly, startled, when he turned to find Justine standing in the hallway.

Her expression was a mixture of confusion and amusement. When she didn't say anything, Ivan stopped pacing, staring back at her.

"I…" Words died deftly in his throat.

Justine arched a brow. "You…?" She spoke. Her voice had gotten a bit better.

"I… am so… so sorry for hurting you, Justine."

She watched as he tried to take a timid step towards her and stopped. He looked exhausted, stressed, and like he hadn't slept all night. How he had gotten through the day so far was beyond her.

"You…" She tucked a tuft of hair behind her ear. "Are forgiven… but that does not mean o want you touching me anytime soon. You hurt me Ivan… and I trusted you. So you are going to have to give me some time."

"Do… do you hate me?" Ivan had to know, he needed to. Though he didn't know what he would do if she did. How would his life go on if the love of his bitter life hated him?

Justine sighed, shaking her head. "You are a jealous fool, but I do not hate you." She said, evenly. "You just need to trust me. Trust me when I tell you that I love you… just you. I do not want anyone else but you."

Ivan felt a weigh lift off of his shoulders. And in that moment he wanted to touch her. Wanted to scoop her up into his arms and hold her close, but he kept himself planted firmly where he stood. "I love you." He said.

Justine nodded, "Yes, yes, I love you too." She said. "Just remember what you promise me." She gave him a knowing look.

"Da, of course."

….

Justine called it a night early, exhausted from the day emotionally and just thankful that she was in her own, small, dank rom and back in her bed. Might not have been as comfortable as the bed she slept in at Francis', but it was still her bed an she had no idea how much she had missed it until her head hit the pillow.

She was out instantly.

Peacefully, without a single dream. Justine didn't know how long she was asleep, but she stirred suddenly when she felt the weight of the bed shift. Quickly she sat up, eyes wide. "Ivan?" Her head tilted. "What are you doing here?"

"I could not sleep." He easily admitted. "I wanted to see you… I missed you."

Her eyes softened as she regarded the knight, but she kept as much space between her and him while on her bed as she could. "I…"

"Francis said I should give you time and space… but I simply cannot. I want to talk to you, and hold you… I want to prove to you how sorry I am."

"Ivan…"

"I want you to still love me… because I still love you."

"It is late, Ivan. We need our rest." Justine said.

"May I kiss you?" It felt off, asking to do something so little. But Ivan felt it was best, given their current circumstance.

Justine blinked blankly before chuckling quietly. She leaned forward, placing a soft kiss to his right cheek. "That is all you get for now. Remember, you are still in trouble." She said.

Ivan sighed, well, beggars can't be choosers. He stayed for a moment longer before standing to his feet. "I will see you in the morning," He said. "Dobroy nochi."

"Good night." Justine murmured as she settled back into her bed. Her cheeks flushed as she rolled onto her side with a sigh.

…..

Ivan, for the next few days, was far too busy with his work for the gilds and gathering supplies to really give thought to much else. He would rise with the sun, while the rest of the manor slept, and would leave before the dew could melt off the grass. He spent the days in the company of his friends, each taking their own specific tasks for the greater good. From gathering lumber or metal to supervising the builders and critiquing their work. By the time Ivan arrived back home, just as the sun was setting (or sometimes well after), he could do nothing but eat his dinner, drag himself into a bath, and get in the bed for some much needed sleep.

Francis was still upset with him, but at least he wasn't ignoring him completely anymore. Ludwig was absolutely furious, and had yelled at him immediately- which was completely out of the German's character entirely.

Though as the long days worn on, the gruff men fell back into normality, and all was calm. Ivan, this particular day, had called it quits early. Heavy gray clouds hung overhead, and the last thing he wanted was to be caught so far away from home during a storm. So he opted to finish the rest of his work at home, the others readily agreed with him, and soon enough everyone broke off into their own separate directions.

"You are home early." Lillian commented as he walked through the door.

"A storm is coming." Ivan said as he kicked off his boots. "I wanted to be locked in before it hit."

Lillian hummed in understanding, going back to her book.

"I am going to work in the study," Ivan announced as he trotted up the aging staircase. "Fetch me for dinner."

"Alright, dear."

Lillian waited until Ivan had entered his office, the door shutting behind him, before she closed her book and sat it aside. She got to her feet, motioning towards the kitchen where she found Justine, smashing berries.

"Justine," The red headed woman called.

"Yes, Lady Lillian?" The girl didn't bother to look up from what she was doing.

"I need you to do something for me."

"And what would that be?"

"I need you to go to the market and pick some things up for me."

At this, Justine looked up. She glanced out the small kitchen window, a slow patter of rain had already started.

"It is already raining, can it not wait until tomorrow?"

"I am afraid not. It should not take you too long if you take a horse." Said Lillian with a frown. "I will write up a list, it is only a few things."

Justine turned her attention back to the weather outside. Leaving didn't seem wise at all. The rain could easily pick up, and she wasn't the best navigator in bad weather. But she knew Lillian would harass the hell out of her until she eventually agreed, and begrudgingly relented.

"I will try to make it back in time for dinner." Justine said as she wrapped herself in her cloak.

"Yes, please do. Poor Ivan seems to have had such a stressful day, he is in need of some relaxation." Lillian said. A bit too dramatically for Justine's taste.

"I will return soon."

Lillian watched as Justine left, weathering through the impending storm. Her painted lips curled into a smile.

…

"The rains have picked up." Ivan commented as he dragged himself into the kitchen, rubbing the back of his stiff neck. He stifled a yawn with his hand as he took a seat at the table. He watched, with mild interest, as Lillian busied herself with putting on a kettle of tea.

"It has," She said lightly. "The cold should be here soon, a couple of days at best."

"Why are you making your own tea?" Ivan questioned. Any free chance she got to boss Justine around she gladly took it.

Speaking of, he hadn't seen his lover in days. He had been so wrapped up in his work that he forgot to spare the girl any time. Bu then again, if Justine didn't seek him out herself it most likely meant she was still upset with him.

"I did not feel like waiting for Justine to return." She shrugged. "I am not a helpless child, Ivan."

"Return?" Ivan's back went rigid. "Where is she?"

"I sent her out for-"

"You sent her out?!" Ivan bellowed, jumping to his feet. "What in the hell? You encouraged her to leave? In weather like this?!" He felt his heart immediately sink.

Lillian turned to face him, eyes narrowed. "You will calm yourself, Ivan." She warned, icily. "Think of this as a test." She mused. "If she makes it back alive, she is a strong enough slave to keep around for a bit longer. And if she does not," Lillian shrugged. "One less problem for someone to worry about. And we can get a slave that actually is not worthless."

Ivan could barely register the woman's words as he grabbed his cloak, securing it tightly, before stepping into his boots.

"You cannot be seriously thinking of going out after her!" Lillian gaped in disbelief. Surely he couldn't be serious.

"Da, I am. And I want you gone by the time I get back." He seethed.

"Ivan-"

"Get out!" Ivan yelled, making a hasty exit.

Ivan didn't bother to check and see if Lillian was heeding his warming. He was greeted with pelting rain that stung as heavy droplets met his skin. In moments he was completely soaked to the bone, but he kept moving. His footing was weighted down by the mud that now lined the once dirt path, and his heavy steps sunk several inches every time he moved. He could hear his own heart racing over the sound of pouring rain, loud and clear.

For the first time in Ivan's life, he didn't know what to do. Once a man that prided himself on strict routines, he now acted upon pure will and instincts. He did what his heart told him to do verses his mind. He took leaps of faith verses treading cautiously. And now, as he blindly searched for Justine, he slowly felt that the light at the end of his tunnel was fading.

"Justine!" He screamed over the howling of harsh winds. "Justine!"

He could barely make out anything in front of him, save for the slanting rain and tussle of trees. Ivan's chest ached, and that alone was debilitating.

What if he couldn't find her?

What if she was severely hurt?

So many scenarios raced through his mind, each one making his knees weak and his gut sink.

He had to find her, her just had to.

"Justine!" He cried desperately.

There were no words that could describe how he currently felt.

Anger, fear, desperation.

What would he do if he lost her? What would he do if she died out here in this weather? He never got her to forgive him. He never made up for truly hurting her. What if he never got the chance to? Ivan wouldn't be able to live with himself.

It was common knowledge that once the weather turned, one stayed put until it calmed down. Venturing out into rains like this was suicidal, Lillian knew this.

Justine knew this.

God, his heart couldn't bear the thought of losing her. Not that smile, not that laughter. Not the one person that brought him so much happiness.

"Justine!" His voice cracked in his throat.

"Justine!"

The spooked neigh of a horse drew his attention to his left, deeper into the woods. Tangled between a few trees and some bushes was his horse. Its reigns were mixed in with some thorn bushes, and Ivan had to be careful not to spook the animal more, and not to get himself hurt or killed in the process. The last thing he wanted was the horse to cripple him or land a fatal blow, so he eased up to the creature, hands raised.

"It is alright!" Said Ivan. "You know me, da? You know me."

The horse didn't seem phased un the slightest, bucking madly. Ivan gave a quick tug on the reigns, jumping back a couple feet, as the spooked animal took off. If it was close by, Justine had to be as well.

"Justine!" Ivan screamed over the winds. "Justine!"

He could make out something large tossed in some bushes a few steps ahead. He trudged closer, deciphering the silhouette of a body, lying haphazardly in the brush.

"Justine!"

She had been thrown off the horse, the bushes beneath her cushioned her fall but not by much. The fall left her unconscious, her leg twisted in a unhealthy fashion that made his bile jump. Ivan dropped to his knees, afraid to touch her. It was like if he did she would wither away right there in front of him.

Carefully, Ivan scooped her body into his arms, cradling her close to his chest. Her limp body was light, so very light, against him. Ivan felt physically sick. He footed back to the manor as quickly as he could, as quick as the mud in the road would allow him. Ivan needed to get Justine out of the rain, he needed to assess the full damage from her fall. And god help him if Lillian was still there when he returned.

He couldn't bear the sight of her right then.

Thankfully once Ivan returned, he was greeted with a heavy silence that consumed him. Not bothering to remove his own soaked clothing, he went to work on removing Justine's. he winced at the large bruise that had blossomed just below her bosom, no doubt from broken ribs. He dried her off as best he could, a dry sob tearing from his throat.

This limp body wasn't Justine, this wasn't his ray of sunshine.

This wasn't… her.

Ivan would have to wait out the storms before he could send for the doctor. He would have to wait for the roads to dry for them to be passable once again. So until then he would do everything in his power to keep her from getting sick, he would keep her comfortable just in case she regained consciousness, and he would be extremely gentle when moving and positioning her. He didn't want her laying on one side too long, that would lead to bed sores and those nasty bastards were breeding grounds for infections.

This is where being a knight and having basic first aid came in handy. It would be days before the rain let up, and after the rains left the battered town of many, the cold officially set in. Creeping up like a silent predator in the night, heavy clouds brought with them piles of snow.

Ivan hated the winter months, he wasn't a fan of the cold. It was uncomfortable, it was depressing, and it was lonely. Their town lost most of its people during the winter, brave yet stupid souls that ventured out just for the sake of doing so and getting stuck out in a blizzard. Once Ivan was in, he was in until the ice thawed and the snow melted in spring. But now, he had reasons to leave the safety of his home. Now, he had to take care of Justine.


	20. Chapter 20

20.

In the days following the incident, Ivan spent sunrise to sunset gathering food and supplies to stock for winter, exhausting himself physically just to make sure they had more than enough to last them. And while he was out, Francis would be back at his home keeping an eye on Justine. And when the Frenchman couldn't, Ludwig did.

Justine had been unconscious for well over a couple of weeks now, and was showing no signs of waking up any time soon. The doctor, much to Ivan's dismay, had informed him of the extent of the girl's injuries. Other than her now reset leg, broken ribs, and sprained wrists (from which she most likely landed on), horse related accidents were one of the leading causes of death to innocent parties. Other than keeping her comfortable and staying attentive, there wasn't much Ivan could do except pray for a miracle and hope for the best.

And every night he did.

On his knees, Ivan prayed to god almighty that he woke Justine up. That he gave her back to him.

Lillian had stopped by on more than one occasion, trying to see him, but Ivan would have none of it. Every time he so much as heard her breathe he got outraged.

This was, after all, her fault.

Lillian had found Ivan in his study, nerves wrecked, and offered to stay and help him. She never felt guilty for anything, after all, and Ivan called her on her bullshit. She simply replied with she was doing it for him and no other reason. Not the fact that she had almost cost someone innocent their life. It was obvious, by Lillian's tone of voice and lack of effort, that she still didn't give a rats ass that Justine was holed up in her room unconscious.

"I do not even see why you care so damn much!" Lillian suddenly snapped, out of annoyance. She just couldn't wrap her mind around why Ivan was so attached to a slave of all people. Or either she could and just didn't want to face the truth.

Most likely the latter.

Ivan, wallowing in concern and anger, didn't bother to answer her. So the woman continued her tyrannical rant.

"You have been so different since you brought her here!" Said Lillian. "You have done nothing but cater to her every will, and it is sickening! She should have died out there! Then perhaps you would have snapped out of this trance she has enthralled you in!"

"You hold your tongue!" Ivan hissed, eyes narrowed as he got to his feet. He towered over Lillian easily.

Lillian arched a thin, red brow. The puzzle pieces slowly but surely fell into place. "You are in love with her, aren't you?' The words burned her mouth like hot bile. The realization struck her like a bold of lightening. How could she not have noticed? "You are."

Lillian didn't wait for Ivan to answer, not that he would in the first place. She knew the knight prided himself on keeping his feelings to himself, even if that meant lying to himself and others. Even if others very well knew. The woman laughed, bittersweet and mocking.

"This is just… I do not even have words!" She chuckled. "This is like history repeating itself in some twisted little cycle. Yet I am not surprised, I just knew something like this would happen sooner or later. Her mother did it, and it ruined my mother's life and that drove her to her death. So I had a feeling in the pit of my gut that I would be next… that she would ruin me." Lillian pushed Ivan back against the nearest wall, catching the man by surprise, as she roughly gripped his chin. "Only I am not my mother, and I will be damned if I let that slave ruin my life again." Her voice was cold, thick with malice. "See, I get what and who I want, Ivan. I wanted you, therefore I got you. And I do not plan on letting you go so easily." Her face softened. "I am willing to forgive this little… bump in our road, I am a forgiving woman. But this behavior cannot, and will not, go unpunished." She gripped his chin tighter, her nails broke the skin easily. "I am going to have that little whore of yours stripped, whipped, and burned at the stake."

Ivan pushed her away from him, Lillian stumbled a few steps before regaining her ground, her smile still in place.

"To get to you, I will have to get to her!" Lillian pointed, voice raised. "And I will make sure that bitch burns for everything she has done!"

"You will not touch her!" Ivan seethed, fists trembling.

"Oh?" Lillian challenged. "Watch me." She turned on her heels, sparing him one last dangerous glance. "I will take everything you hold dear, my sweet. Until there is nothing left but a gaping hole for my love to fill. You have become weak, and it is not a good look on you. But I will fix that, one dead body at a time."

The Lillian Ivan once knew was gone, replaced by a monster that sought blood for being wronged. Ivan watched as she took her leave, the constant patter of her departing feet filled the silent void, creeping up his spine and into the marrow of his bones.

For the first time, Ivan was afraid. Not for himself, but for Justine. For his sisters, his mother. He knew Lillian wouldn't stop with just killing Justine. She would cross the ocean to Paris and find his sisters. She would find her way to Russian and kill his mother too. Lillian would erase everyone that stood in her way until there was no one left in his life except for her.

Anyone Lillian could feel threatened by had to go.

Ivan had no idea what to do now, other than protect those close to him at all costs. Quickly, he rushed down the stairs, peaking into Justine's room to check on her. She hadn't moved since he last positioned her, she still wasn't awake. And that was better than her being dead so this would just have to do. He motioned over to give her forehead a light kiss.

"It is going to be alright, dorogoy. I will not let Lillian harm you again, I swear that on my life." Ivan whispered, brushing hair back from her face. He spared her one last, longing glance before leaving.

Normally Ivan wouldn't ask for help. Asking for help meant weakness, and he was anything but. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and he needed to get to Francis and the others. He needed their help.


	21. Chapter 21

21.

"Ivan?" Francis asked, bewildered, as the older man stumbled into his home out of breath.

Ivan ran the entire three miles through multiple feet of snow. He huffed loudly, his chest stinging. "I… need…" Ivan breathed heavily. "Help…"

"Help? Help with what? Are you alright?" It wasn't like Ivan to need help, let alone not make any sense, so Francis grew worried with each passing second. "Ivan, are you alright?"

"Lillian stopped by," Said Ivan. "She is threatening to kill Justine, my family too."

Francis' jaw fell, "She what?"

Ivan nodded, collecting himself. "Da," He said. "She said she is going to have Justine burned at the stake. And knowing Lillian, she will not stop there. She will find my sisters, my mother…"

Francis began pacing, chewing absentmindedly on his full nails. "Oui, this is very bad…" He mumbled. "What are we going to do indeed? It will be hard to move Justine in her current state, especially in the snow. And getting word to your family over seas might be difficult too."

"What am I to do?" Asked Ivan. "I said I would protect Justine from her, and I failed her. I cannot fail her again." He was further proving himself not only to be an inadequate lover, but man as well. He was noticing a fault in himself he didn't even know existed.

Just what in the hell was he good for?

"We will figure something out, mon amie." Francis tried, reassuringly.

"I need to get Justine somewhere safe," Ivan grumbled, combing a agitated hand through his hair. "Just until this blows over and Lillian finds someone else to spend her time and energy on."

"We can take her to the monastery."

"The monastery?"

"Oui, petit Feliciano works there during the week. I am sure he can help us figure something out. But it is too late to head over to Ludwig's now, the sun will be setting soon. And it is not wise to travel at night in weather like this, you know. So we will go at first light tomorrow."

"Alright." Ivan stood steadily. "Tomorrow then."

Ivan could barely sleep at all that night. Less than what he considered normal those days. For most of the night he tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable. And once he did, his mind wouldn't shut down. The more he wanted rest, the more it eluded him. Eventually he found peace, drifting into a dreamless slumber only hours before the sun rose.

…

"I will be back soon, malen'kiy. I pray god keeps you safe until I return." Ivan planted a soft kiss to each of Justine's cheeks before leaving.

He would go to Francis' home and together they would make their way to Ludwig's home out in the country. The roads were clear of other travelers, and save for the extra feet of snow, they would make it by the afternoon at the latest.

And that was without any mishaps.

For the most part the old knights traveled in silence, and when they did speak they spoke fondly of their lovers. Francis worried about Arthur and how their love was starting to take a negative toll on his reign.

"He is still loved by many, some are able to over look this… transgression. Others hate him, and I cannot stand that more than anything. He tells me not to worry and these things will work themselves out but how am I not to worry!" Francis sighed deeply.

Ivan didn't have these problems yet with Justine. Their romance was still so new, so fragile. All he knew was that he missed her dearly, he would give anything just to hear her call his name again.

"Would you marry her?" Francis asked.

"I would," Said Ivan truthfully. "I would renounce my knighthood and move back to my country. We could live in my old family home, raise our children there. I would do anything she wanted me t." He allowed himself a small chuckle. "She has me wrapped around her pinky." Ivan felt a tinge of sadness wash over him with the surrounding cold.

Francis, all of his friends really, knew that he was hurting. Ludwig was surprised to see them at his home in the dead of winter, to say the least. He ushered them inside from the cold, Feliciano brewed them some tea. Right away Ivan informed the German of the latest events, watching as his thick blonde brows furrowed and his blue eyes settled on the floor as he listened.

No, this wasn't good at all.

"Feliciano," Ludwig called.

"Ve~?" The lithe Italian peaked his head out from the kitchen.

"Come here."

The younger made his way over to where the knights were seated, their faces somber.

"Do you think you could find a place to hide someone at the monastery?" Ivan asked.

"Hide someone?" Feliciano pondered aloud. "I suppose so… there are random niches in the walls and under the flooring that should be large enough. Who am I hiding?"

"Justine." Said Ludwig.

"There is a small corridor behind the mass hall I could probably put her in, it is larger and I am able to access it via a door. But the door is hidden, it looks like another section of the wall. I believe one of the nuns said it is used to help smuggle out innocents during invasions. She should be safe there."

" _Should_ be?" Asked Ivan. " _Should_ be is not good enough. I need to know that she _will_ be safe. Lillian will burn this town to the ground if she cannot find Justine. She needs to be somewhere Lillian will never be able to find her or think to look. Will she be safe there?"

Feliciano toyed with the hem of his sleeve nervously, mulling over the physical layout of the monastery in his mind. "If not there, there is a lose portion of the wall in the kitchen pantry that I can hide her in. The only reason I even know about it is because I accidently fell through it once." He offered.

Ivan sighed as he laced his fingers together, resting is chin atop his hands. "I want to see it first before I say yes," He said. "If that does not work, I will ask Yao to store her on his ship and take her back to his country."

"You will send her to _China_!?"

"What other choice do I have?" Ivan snapped. "At least Yao will be able to keep an eye on her until I am able to guarantee her safety here. And then he could bring her back on one of his routine trips to the port here."

The men fell into a momentary silence.

"We are here to help you, Ivan. You know that. We will see this through." Ludwig said, placing a hand on the Russian's hunched shoulder.

"Da… spasibo."

…

Ivan returned home just after the sun had set, silence greeting him along side the bitter chill of the freezing cold. He motioned deeper into his home, starting the fireplace, before going to check on Justine. His heart all but dropped when he swung the wooden door open, finding the small room empty.

"Oh my god."


	22. Chapter 22

22.

Backing away slowly, Ivan spun on bare heels.

"Justine?!" He all but screamed.

' _Nyet! Nyet, nyet, nyet! Not this! Not now!'_

"Justine?!" He tore through his home like a mad man, starting with the kitchen before making his way up the stairs.

"Justine!?"

Ivan all but ripped the doors off of their metal hingers as they fell open under his weight. Water spilt over onto the floor as she jumped to her feet, spinning around to face the opened doorway. A rush of steam left the small bathroom, as wide dark eyes stared back at equally wide violet.

"Yes? Why are you screaming my name like a banshee?" Justine asked, arms folding tightly at her chest.

For a moment Ivan could do nothing but stare in disbelief. "What… what are you…?" Words eluded him.

"Well I was soaking," Said Justine. "My joints are so damn stiff."

Ivan crossed the bathroom, scooping her up into his arms. He pressed a desperate kiss to her lips. She seemed so much smaller in his arms. She had lost a substantial amount of weight but Ivan didn't care. He was touching her again, and she was touching him. He was talking to her again, and she spoke back.

"My, are we not affectionate today." Justine chuckled as Ivan snuggled the crook of her neck.

"God answered my prayers." Came his muffled reply.

"What happened?" Justine asked as she combed her fingers through his hair.

"You do not remember?"

"I… remember… Lillian being here, and her telling me to go out in the rain to get her something from the market… it was storming really bad… I think something spooked the horse? And that is it…" Her brows furrowed.

"I found you in the woods unconscious. You were thrown off the horse, your leg was broken and a few ribs too."

"How long was I unconscious?"

"Almost a month," Said Ivan.

That explained why she felt the way she did, physically. "Where is Lillian?" Justine asked. She knew the house was too quiet for comfort.

"I… sent her away, I called off our marriage…"

When Justine saw the man tense, she grew worried. "Ivan, what happened?"

"She is going to have you killed… burned at the stake… and my family, she is-"

"She is going to what?!" Justine yelled. "How does she know? When did she find out?!"

"She figures it out after I told her to get out and went out after you into the storm." Explained Ivan. "She was just here not too long ago, and it was then that she said…" His words died off in his throat.

"What am I going to do?" Justine wondered. "I will just have to kill her first."

"Huh? Justine!"

"What?"

"You cannot be serious."

"About what?"

"Killing her!"

"You bet your ass I am!" Justine huffed. "Do you think for a second that I am going to sit around and do nothing? That bitch had my mother killed and I had to grow up without my sisters, no thanks to her. There is no way in hell I am letting her screw up my life again, and I am sure as fuck not going to run and hide."

"I do not want to lose you… not again." Ivan said, almost pleadingly. His violet eyes begged with her dark ones. There was determination in her eyes, and Ivan didn't know if he wanted to swell with pride for how strong she was, standing her ground, or hide her away for her own protection.

"I do not plan on going anywhere, no time soon." She offered him a small smile. "She took me from you once, it will not happen again."

…

Justine toweled through her damp hair, back to Ivan, as the man observed her every move. He sat quietly while she bathed, offering to wash her hair and scrub her back. Whatever he could do to help. Now he sat in her bedroom, on her bed, observing silently.

"Is there something wrong?" Justine decided to ask.

Ivan had always been an odd one, but now it was getting a bit out of hand. His once confident caresses were now hesitant and she couldn't fathom why.

"Why do you ask?" Ivan countered, with a tilt of his head.

"You are staring at me."

"Can I not admire you?"

"Ivan."

"Da?"

"What is wrong?"

He cast his eyes downward with a sigh. "What do you recall before getting hurt?"

Justine hummed, pausing her movement to think. "I suppose not much. I remember leaving the house in some pretty nasty weather, and before that you coming home from your day's work early…"

"Anything before that?"

"Hmmm… not much, why? Did something happen?"

"Justine… I…" Ivan struggled to find the correct words. "I hurt you… very badly. And you were still upset with me prior to your accident."

"Oh…" She said. "What did you do?"

"I… forced myself on you… you begged me to stop and I did not…"

Justine blinked, sitting down without saying a word. For a while neither one of them spoke, until Ivan finally asked,

"Do you hate me now?"

Justine shook her head, "No… I do not. Someone else would have easily taken advantage of the situation, butt you… you were honest, and I appreciate that."

"I…" Silence consumed him.

Justine reached for her socks, saying, "This room is awfully draft." It was a change in topic that Ivan wholly welcomed. "Has it snowed yet?" Even though her room had no windows, freezing air still managed to slip through the cracks in the floorboards and foundation.

"Yes it has," Ivan nodded. "The roads are officially becoming impassable. Here, let me."

Though he would've easily made countless trips out in the weather if it meant keeping his love safe. Ivan got down onto his knees, lifting one of Justine's legs. He slipped the sock onto her foot, chuckling as her toes wiggled in the warm wool, before grabbing her other foot.

"Thank you," She said.

Justine watched him, brown eyes studying him closely. Ivan's touch lingered after he slipped on the second sock, and he leaned forward, placing a soft kiss to her calf.

"You will never know how hard I prayed for god to bring you back to me." He planted another kiss, to her knee. "That I would be able to talk with you again, to hear you laugh and sing." Another kiss, to her thigh. "That I would be able to hold you… to touch you again." He pressed his nose to her crotch, inhaling the scent that was Justine. She always smelt so nice to him, felt so warm.

Justine gasped, legs spreading to accommodate his broad shoulders. She moaned as his tongue licked against her folds, just before pressing inside. Her hands fisted in his hair as she fell back against her mattress, hips rocking against his face.

"Ivaaaaan~" She mewled, holding his head in place.

She continued to rock her hips against his thrusting tongue, one of his hands moving upward to cup her left breast. Ivan pulled her taunt nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Withdrawing his tongue, Ivan placed a chaste kiss to her clit before giving it a soft lick. He felt Justine's body twitch, her soft pants ringing loudly in his ears. He consumed the small bud, sucking, watching as his lover's back bowed completely off the bed.

"Ivaaaaaaan~!" Justine cried, tugging on his hair.

Nothing in that moment mattered except Justine, her cries, and her skin against his. Ivan pulled away, climbing up her frame to press his lips to hers. Tongues clashed, fighting for dominance, as rough fingers tangled in soft curls. It was a desperate attempt to pull her closer to him.

"I need you," Ivan all but whined. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, placing a kiss to her skin before biting down.

Justine moaned, her dull nails digging into the skin of his shoulders. "Fuck… Ivan…" She breathed.

"I need to be inside you," He groaned.

"Then take me… I am yours."

….

Ivan lazily combed through Justine's hair, drawing small circles on her back, as she slept against him. He wrapped her in the blankets to shield her from the cold, her warmth enough for the both of them. Her head rested against his chest, her cheek just where his heart was. Her breath released in soft, even puffs. For the first time in days, Ivan was content. He had his lover back, and she didn't loath him. What more could he ask for?

' _But what about Lillian?'_ A part of him wondered. She was still a problem, a large one at that. And what made matters worse was that Justine wanted to stand her ground. Ivan was torn. He couldn't have her being completely rash, the outcome wouldn't be good.

Until her papers were officially notarized, Justine was still a slave and still vulnerable to Lillian and the law of the land. Meaning her life was still not her own and Lillian could have her killed whenever she wanted. If only Justine wasn't so stubborn, if only she would just listen and allow him to help her.

Protect her.

Ivan sighed, he had no idea what to do. He didn't like not knowing what to do. When Justine stirred, he glanced down to see brown staring back at him.

"What are you thinking about?" She asked. Her eyes were still heavy with sleep.

"Nothing, malen'kiy. Go back to sleep." He said.

"You are lying."

"Oh? And how would you know this?" Ivan asked, tone teasing.

"Because I know you," Justine tapped his chin. "You are more transparent than you know, my lord."

Ivan chuckled, deep within his chest. "Touché'." He paused. "I cannot get my thoughts away from Lillian."

"Even when she is not here her presence still mocks me." Justine scoffed.

"I am merely worried for your safety, nothing more." Said Ivan.

"I already told you that I will-"

"You are not going to kill her."

"Why the hell not?!"

"Murder is a crime."

"It is a crime when a noble kills a noble, or a knight is killing without a means. The law loves to turn a blind eye when it is slaves that are the ones being murdered."

"You will no longer be a slave, but a recognized citizen and noble. Meaning you will not be exempt from the law."

"Fine… I will just rough her up a bit."

"Justine," Ivan sighed, shaking his head.

"You cannot stop me from hitting her for hitting me and what she did to my family. I will not kill her, but I can assure you I will be giving her the ass whooping she is long overdue for."

"Why do I love you so?" Ivan chuckled, caressing her cheek.

Justine kissed his palm, "Because I am pretty damn great."


	23. Chapter 23

23.

Ivan watched from the kitchen as Justine watched the snow fall outside the window.

"I am so sad I missed the first snow fall." She pouted. "When I was a child, my mother, sisters, and I used to watch it together I have not played in the snow in ages." Justine sighed contentedly as she reminisced. Her childhood, before her mother's passing, was great. Her mother would wake her up from her sleep, smiling down at her, as she gestured for her youngest to join them in watching the snow fall. Little Justine could climb into her mother's lap, head in her warm bosom, as they all watched the small puffs falls from the dark sky.

"I am not a fan of the snow or the cold." Ivan found himself saying again.

"But why?" Justine just couldn't seem to understand.

"The cold brings nothing but death and turns the town and country side into a barren wasteland."

Justine thought this over before getting to her feet. She entered the kitchen and walked over to her love, grabbing both of his hands as she pulled him away from chopping vegetables.

"Huh?" Ivan blinked. "Just what are you up to, dorogoy?"

Justine remained silent as she dressed him in his winter cloak and gloved.

"I am a grown man, I can do this myself." Ivan grumbled, the faintest of blushes in his face.

"You hush." She tsked. "Wait right here."

Ivan watched as his lover disappeared for a moment, only to return wearing her own winter wear. Bundled up neatly, Justine tugged the less than willing knight out into the cold. He frowned noticeably, brows creased.

"It is cold." He complained. Ivan had had enough of the cold winds and snow to last him a lifetime. He watched as she ran off, a fit of giggle, gathering snow up into her hands

"That is the point!" Justine laughed. "I am going to help you see the beauty in the snow."

"There is nothing beautiful about the cold."

"Oh but there is! You cannot have spring and rebirth without the cold. The cold is beautiful."

Ivan shook his head, "You never cease to amaze me."

Justine simply smiled.

"Come now, you have proven your point. Cannot have you catching your death out here, let us go inside." Ivan said, waving her over.

Justine eventually complied, making her way over to him through the ice and snow. Ivan guided her into the house and over towards the fireplace.

"Sit, I will go and make us some tea." He said.

Justine wrapped herself in a thick, wool blanket, bringing it up to her face. It smelt just like him, and she couldn't help but smile. The Russian returned, sometime later, and handed her a mug of brewed chamomile tea.

"Thank you." Justine said with a grin. She opened the blanket for him to join her, and Ivan did so, eagerly. He kissed her cheek before giving his attention to the mug in his own hands.

….

Ivan was the first to wake, the sun barely making its way into their dark bedroom. He stared down at his lover, nothing but her head and neck visible. For a moment he thought back fondly over the last few days. Days where they spent most of their time in each other's arms, skin against skin. Days when their quant little home was filled with laughter, happiness, and peace. Days where Ivan wished the sun would never set and they could stay like they were forever. The previous night, like the nights before it, had been spent with them preparing dinner together, socializing over their meal, and then fucking into the night. He could all but hear his lover's breathless cries and mewls for him. He could still feel her warmth, suffocating him in every way. It was enticing, enchanting, and something he would never grow tired of.

Not now, not ever.

There wasn't a thing Ivan didn't love or admire about Justine, as he found himself leaning down to nestle his face into her hair, inhaling his scent on her. He knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his days, in this life and the next, with her. His gaze slid over the finely folded parchment on the desk across the bedroom, parchment that told of Justine's freedom and nobility, and the financial security of his sisters. The clerk had footed through several feet of snow to bring the precious papers to Braginski manor, and Ivan could've dropped to his knees and kissed the man's feet he was so happy. And so to celebrate her newfound freedom, Ivan made some of his favorite Russian dishes, moved her officially into his bedroom, and sought out what the future held for the both of them.

Ivan climbed carefully out of bed, as to not wake Justine, slipping out of the bedroom undetected. He trotted down the staircase, listening as the wood creaked beneath his feet, stifling a yawn. He was tired, but he had no complaints. Ivan made his way to the kitchen with the intent of starting a pot of coffee, he needed a pick me up before making breakfast, when a sudden knock drew him to the front door.

It was too early for visitors, and those who knew him knew this. So with a gruff "What?" Ivan opened the door, only to be roughly grabbed and pinned to the floor.

"What the…?" He grunted as a booted foot connected with his gut. Before he could register what was going on, he caught two men making their way up the stair case, swords in their hands. "Nyet…" Ivan struggled. "Nyet! Nyet! Jutsine!"

Thin fingers threaded through his tussled morning hair, pulling his neck back. Violet eyes met malevolent emerald.

"Hello dearest,"

….

Justine was startled awake by what seemed to be a struggle happening downstairs, her lover shouting her name.

"Ivan?"

He wasn't there, and he hadn't been gone too long since his side of the bed was still warm. She heard the scuffling of wood, murmured voice, and a wounded grunt. Justine threw the covers back, getting to her feet. She quickly got to her knees, reaching under the bed and removing a long, wooden box with silver latches. Inside, on a bed of velvet, was Ivan's sword.

Armed and determined, she turned to face the bedroom door. Her grip on the hilt tightened as heavy footsteps bounded up the stairs, heading her way. When the door finally opened, thrown with such force it was almost taken off of its rusting hinges, Justine came face to face with armed guards, clad in silver armor.

"You are trespassing," Justine hissed, eyes narrowed.

"Justine Willis?" One asked.

"That is my name."

"You are hereby under arrest."

"Oh?' Justine mused. "It would be in your best interest to leave, do you know how many of my friends are knights? I will split you down the middle if you do not get the hell out of my house this instinct!"

"By the order of-"

"I know very well who sent you," Justine interjected. She picked up the parchment on the desk, handing it to the men who in turn started at her in question. "Read it. And do not think of tearing it up. That is a copy, the original has already been filed and stamped."

Exchanging looks, the men unfolded the crisp sheets and scanned its contents. For a while they didn't say anything, and from their silence she could still hear Ivan, in distress, causing a scene below.

"You cannot touch me… without breaking the law of course. I am no longer a slave and have done nothing against the king, his kingdom, or against his rules. I see now problem here, do you?"

"N-no… my lady." One said, with an awkward scratch of his neck. They lowered their swords, and with as much respect as they could muster, stepped side so she could walk past them.

Justine, with the sword in one hand and freedom papers in the other, made her way down the stairs. There, she found Ivan with a bloodied lip and Lillian, who looked too smug for words.

"Well, well." Lillian smiled. "I am glad to see you awake."

Justine walked up to the redhead, her steely gaze unwavering, as she zoned in on the woman. With one, swift motion, Justine punched the older woman square in the face, effectively breaking her nose.

"That was for splitting up my sisters and I!" Justine said as she watched Lillian stumble back, gripping her nose. Before Lillian could regain her bearings, Justine punched her again, landing the blow to her right jaw. "That was for hitting me!"

Justine, with one foot planted firmly on the floor, swung her left leg out, kicking Lillian with so much force her knees buckled. "That was for Ivan!" She seethed. "And this…" She pinned Lillian to the floor with a foot to the red head's neck, the sword's blade raised high. "This is for my mother!"

"Justine!"

She immediately stopped, the blade's tip only inches from Lillian's chest, directly above her heart.

"Justine, do not." Ivan said, shaking his head. "Her life is not worth yours… it is not worth ours. If you kill her, in front of these witnesses, you can and will be tried for murder."

Justine snapped her head back to Lillian, who was staring back up at her in a mixture of disbelief and fear. Justine stepped back, but kept the sword pointed at Lillian.

"Consider this your second chance at life, Lillian. You sure as fuck better use it wisely. If you step foot on this land again, Ivan will not be here to save your ass. I will cut out your tongue, gash out your eyes, and gut you. I will feed you to the fucking pigs, you hear me? And I swear that on my mother's grave. Now get the hell out of my house."

Justine lowered her blade, allowing the older woman to drag herself to her feet. Lillian spared them both one last spiteful glare before leaving, the men she brought with her filing suit. Justine slammed the door shut and immediately went to Ivan's side.

"Are you alright?" She asked, wiping the blood from his lip.

"Da," He nodded. "I am fine."

Ivan pulled Justine into his arms and held her tightly against him, releasing a long sigh of relief.


	24. Chapter 24

A/N: If you made it this far, thank you for reading! I ended up finishing the story after my Humanities class ended, and had it typed up and sitting in my phone. So I spent all of the rainy Hurricane Harvey days typing it up to post here. I hope you enjoyed it! Please review and so on. XOXO

* * *

Epilogue:

"Just what are you all doing?" Justine folded her arms, her weight resting on one leg as she stared at four different sets of eyes staring back at her.

"Nothing."

"Does not look like nothing."

The four little heads exchanged glances before looking back at their mother in defeat. "We are waiting for Nikolay, papa, and Uncle Francis to come back."

Justine eyed her children before sighing. "Go wash up for dinner, I mean it this time. They will be back soon enough, and no funny business! I finally got your sister to sleep and I want her to stay that way." She tutted, pointing towards the stairs.

The boys sighed dramatically, getting to their feet.

Ad as if on cue, the door opened.

"We have returned!" Francis bellowed with a smile, arms wide as he expected to be tackled by the children.

The boys knocked the Frenchman over, all of them pestering him with questions he tried to answer one at a time and failed. Ivan easily stepped over them, their eldest son, Nikolay, following behind him quietly.

Justine greeted her first child, and the boy just a few days shy of thirteen, welcomed his mother's hug. His face buried into her bosom as he sighed.

"What is the matter?" She asked, stroking his ashen curls.

All of the boys had their father's ashen hair (color alone with their mother's thick and unruly curls), high cheekbones, defined nose, and on some days his personality. It was their daughter, who mirrored her mother.

"I could not catch anything, I could not kill anything… I failed mama." Came her son's muffled response.

Justine lifted his face, cupping his cheeks in her hands. "There, there. It is alright." She offered with a smile. "You have plenty of other times to try, and if you do not want you, that is alright too. No one is going to force you to do something you do not want to."

"I do not have to hunt again?" Light violet eyes stared up at her.

"Of course not." She planted a soft kiss to his cheek. "Now take your brothers upstairs and get washed up for dinner."

Nikolay smiled, lips curving over bright white teeth, before shuffling off to gather the younger boys. He was the oldest at thirteen, and then there was Alexander at eleven, Benjamin at ten, Abram at eight, and Elia at four. The only daughter, Rosalie (named after Justine's mother), was the youngest of the Braginski children at only a few months old.

Ivan watched as his wife conversed with Francis, the Frenchman cradling the slumbering infant close to his chest, while they talked quietly. Even now, all these years later, Justine was still so beautiful to him. He could just sit and stare at her, and wonder how lucky he was to have her. Time was kind to them. He had a wide he adored, children he loved dearly, and friends he could still tolerate. Ivan sighed, stepping further into his home to be greeted by his wife.

Ivan wrapped his arms around Justine from behind, burying his face into the crook of her neck. "I have returned," He murmured.

Justine chuckled, "Welcome home, love." She brushed fingers against his cheek. The skin was rough with stubble. He hadn't shaved that day. "I heard Nikki had a hard time."

Ivan sighed, "He worries me… he is more like his mother than he knows."

Justine huffed, her eyes giving an annoyed roll. "Oh please," She dismissed. She turned to face her husband, her smile kind. His ashen hair, with just the faintest hints of grey, were tussled from the night's wind. "Just do not force anything on him, alright? He is finding his own path, and you know he is sensitive."

Ivan hummed at the thought, rolling his stiff shoulders, before gesturing for the Frenchman to hand over his daughter. Francis pouted, giving the neatly wrapped bundle one last snuggle before passing her over to her father.

"Where are the boys?" Iva asked, giving his daughter's cheek a kiss. She was so small in his arms, much smaller than her brothers had been anyway.

Justine's last pregnancy and delivery had been extremely difficult, resulting in the babe being born early. It was by the grace of god that Ivan hadn't lost them both that night. And they were advised, after it was declared that the young baby and his wife would live, that they shouldn't attempt to have any more children. Ivan had the large family he had always wanted, complete with the birth of their only daughter.

"They are upstairs getting cleaned up. Is this everyone or should I make more plates?" Justine asked, with an arched brow. Her eyes shifted between the two men. They had a habit of inviting more company along with them.

"Just us," Ivan gave a low chuckle, a rumble in his throat.

The baby in his arms stirred, eyes opening to stare up at him.

"I am sorry," Ivan nuzzled her nose with his. "Papa did not mean to wake you."

Justine glared at him in distaste. "I just put her down, Vanya."

"My apologizes, dear. It was not my intention." Ivan hadn't taken his eyes off his daughter yet. "She just could not resist waking up and seeing her papa."

Justine opened her mouth to say something else, but was silenced with the rapid patter of their sons descending the staircase.

"Papa!" They yelled, tacking the large Russian.

Thankfully Ivan was used to such a greeting, and stood his ground as his sons proceeded to climb up on. He passed Rosalie over to her mother, so he could scoop the boys up.

"Guess what I did today papa!" Alexander demanded.

"Papa! Benjamin hit me today! He hit me and then stuffed me in the closet!" Abram rattled.

"I did not!" Benjamin gaped.

"Yes you did!" Abram grappled at Ivan's face. "He did papa! Do not listen to his lies! I was in that closet for so long I missed lunch! I could have starved to death! Ben was trying to kill me!"

"No I did not!" Benjamin defended. "We were playing hide and seek and because he is an idiot he got locked in the closet he willingly chose to hide in!"

"Papa?"

Ivan managed to cast a downward glance to Elia, who tugged on his pant leg.

"Did you bring me back a rock?"

Ivan gave his youngest son a smile as he reached into his pocket and pulled forth a rock the size of a large acorn. His youngest son beamed up at him,

"Thanks papa!" he hugged him once before running back up the stairs. The child had a rather impressive collection thus far, composed of rocks from all over the world. Whenever Ivan left the house, he made it a point to search for one his son didn't have already to bring back for him.

"Alright, alright. Give papa some space, you all take uncle Francis and go sit at the table." Justine said over the commotion.

"But mama-"

Alexander was effectively silence by the stern glare his mother gave him.

"Yes mama."

Ivan placed the boys back on the floor, and watched as they went to hang themselves off of Francis, dragging him into the dining area. Once they were alone, he grabbed Justine by the waist and pulled her close.

"I have missed you." His voice dropped to a whisper, lips pressing against the curve of her cheek.

"You were only gone for a little while," Justine blushed. She gasped as her husband pushed her up against the nearest wall.

"I am so very hungry, malen'kiy." He husked, voice laced with need.

"Oh no," Justine placed her hands against his firm chest.

"The doctor said to wait two months, I have waited three. I have waited long enough," Ivan breathed as he pressed his body against hers. "I need you now… tonight…"

Justine moved her hands downs her husband's torso slowly, hooking her fingers in his trousers. "You need me, love?" She purred, full breasts pressed flush against him.

"Do not tease me," Ivan hissed, hips swaying into her touch.

"Do not fret, love. I will take good care of you." Justine kissed him briefly, pulling his lips between her teeth before releasing him. "Now, if you will excuse me."

Ivan watched as Justine sashayed away from him, hips swaying. She spared him one, simple smile before disappearing into the kitchen. He groaned, following behind her. All these years later (and after six kids) and he still couldn't get enough of her. He would eat his dinner, spend time with his children and his dear friend, and once the house fell into its normal quiet calm, he would ravish her.

Yes, god had blessed him indeed.


End file.
